The Sword of Time Will Pierce Our Skin
by Beth Pryor
Summary: A Covert Affairs Prequel following Auggie from the end of his rehabilitation period and leading back to his return to the CIA. Pre-Annie. Auggie/Joan friendship, and spoilers for seasons 1-4 could occur. Close to canon, but assumes the universe of Auggie's family created in "Duck and Cover" although reading that isn't necessary for this one. Now Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: The Sword of Time Will Pierce Our Skin**

**Author:** Beth Pryor

**Rating:** T (for language and discussion of suicidal ideation)

**Summary:** A Covert Affairs Prequel following Auggie from the end of his rehabilitation period and leading back to his new position at the CIA. Pre-Annie. Auggie/Joan friendship with spoilers for seasons 1-4 possible. Will be close to canon, and assumes the universe of Auggie's family set forth in my previous work "Duck and Cover," although reading that isn't mandatory or necessary to get the gist.

**Disclaimer:** Covert Affairs and its characters belong to the USA Network.

**A/N: **This started as a one-shot that grew and grew and grew. The title is a line from the song Suicide Is Painless, best known as "The Theme From M*A*S*H" commissioned by Robert Altman as the "stupidest song ever written," with lyrics by his then 14-year-old son Mike. But I just liked the line.

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**The Sword of Time Will Pierce Our Skin**

Chapter 1

"Sweetheart. Are you awake?" Gwen Hamilton Anderson sat at the foot of her youngest son's bed.

Almost unexpectedly, he rolled toward her, eyes wide and voice giving no indication that she'd interrupted his sleep. "Yeah."

"Are you feeling okay?" She tried hard not to hover, but even now almost four months into his rehab, this wasn't like him. She almost hoped he was having a migraine.

"I'm just tired. That's all." He adjusted the pillow behind his head. "I haven't been sleeping much."

"How are the headaches?"

"A little better, I guess. Nothing really bad for a few weeks. Just kind of achy at the back of my head and down my neck." _All the time_, he failed to add.

She took in his lanky form huddled under the blankets. "I just talked to Brendan. He said you told him to come by and get some things for the boys – your skis, SCUBA gear, Rollerblades, some other stuff?" Again, she hoped she'd gotten this wrong.

"Yeah. I thought they'd get more use out of it than I will." He pushed himself into a cross between a ball and a sitting position. His t-shirt hung off of him, and he had about four days' growth of beard attempting to fill out the hollows of his cheeks.

"Are you sure?" She smoothed his unruly hair as a proxy for everything she wished she could do for him.

"I guess some of it I could probably theoretically use at some point, but SCUBA gear? I can't see the fucking fish, Mom. I'm not going to need it." He didn't raise his voice or inject emotion. It was simply matter-of-fact.

She knew he didn't want her pity, so she didn't give him any. She directed him so he was sitting on the side of the bed beside her. "Here's the thing, Aug. When people stop sleeping but stay in bed all day, lose weight, barely eat, and have no interest in doing the things they used to find enjoyable, it's concerning. Especially when they're dealing with a life-changing injury and PTSD. And when they're giving away their possessions, it should be scary to the people who love them." She held his hand. "You're scaring me, Auggie."

"Mom," he sighed.

"Are you thinking about hurting yourself?" She paused a minute, like she couldn't actually say the words, "Or killing yourself?" It was so different from asking the standardized patients in medical school as part of an exam. This was her son. Her baby.

He rested his forearms on his thighs and held his head in his hands. "I don't know. Maybe. Yes, but this is the really depressing part, I don't know if I can actually do it – not like 'go through with it,' but actually successfully do it.

"I don't have a gun. They make you give that back with the uniform. Or maybe I do somewhere in storage, but how the hell would I find it and who, in their right mind, would help me find it or let me buy another one. I have some anti-depressants and they give me like two weeks supply of Trazodone at a time, but I looked it up. I'd need like three months worth to do any real damage, and even then, if you mean it, you don't use pills unless you have Quaaludes or some shit like that. I have some climbing rope, but I don't know your place well enough to know where I would use that. I would have a bitch of a time using carbon monoxide. The garage is way too big; I'd run out of gas first. And I don't think I could slit my wrists. Just don't think I could do that one on principle. Too much mess for you, and the whole thing is already a mess to begin with, so." He laughed bitterly. "I don't see how I can plan for a future when I can't even kill myself without assistance."

Gwen wiped back silent tears and worked hard to keep her voice in check. "Has Dr. Rosen changed your medication lately?" From her view, things had been bad for about three weeks, but she just hadn't had the courage to ask him before today. Now she knew why. She'd been afraid he'd answer her like this.

"No." He'd been on the same doses since he came to Hines about three months before.

"I think you need to talk to him. Today."

Auggie rubbed his eyes. "It's Saturday. I'm sure he needs some hours off the clock. Besides, I have an appointment on Monday."

Gwen shook her head. She usually gave the boys leeway on medical issues, but she was standing firm here. "No, Auggie. You have to talk to him today, or we're going to the hospital."

He stood. He'd heard about the 7th floor and the paper clothes you ended up wearing when you mentioned doing yourself in. "Mom, seriously. They're just going to ask me the same questions you did and we'll come up with a safe plan – which means I'll tell you if I feel worse or something, and I'll see Ben on Monday."

"Would you just humor me and leave a message with his service?" She placed his phone in his hands. "Please?"

He took the phone and scrolled through his contacts, finding Dr. Ben Rosen's cell and hit call.

Ben answered a few seconds later. "Auggie, hey. What's up? You okay?"

"I'm really sorry to bother you, Ben, but I'm having a really rough time."

The background noise decreased drastically, like Ben had changed locations. "Where are you now? Is anyone with you?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. I'm in Glencoe at my parents' house. My mom is here. I was going to leave a message and see you on Monday, but she thought I should call now."

"Listen, I'm actually playing golf just up the road, and I'm on the 16th hole. Can I meet you there in about 45 minutes? Would that work?"

"Ben, no, really, I don't want to wreck your weekend."

"Seriously, Auggie, you think I'm gonna be able to concentrate on anything if I don't talk to you for real today?"

Auggie smiled a little. That's the kind of guy Ben Rosen was. It's why Auggie and his fellow patients trusted the guy and opened up to him. "Ok. I'll be here."

"Great. Can you text me the directions and I'll see you in a bit."

"He's coming over?" Gwen asked not having had the benefit of the other end of the conversation. "Is he worried?"

Auggie patted Gwen's arm. "No, Mom. He's just a good guy."

"Well, I have to say that after talking to him on the phone for two minutes, you look more invigorated than you have in a month."

"I'm gonna get a shower."

"You may want to shave, as well." He groaned at her from the bathroom. "Or not."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks so much to all the readers, followers, those who have favorited and most especially to the dear reviewers. It is your words that keep the creativitiy and ideas flowing. I'm always happy to read what you think - good or bad!

As far as the content of the story, I really wanted to touch on what had to be a terribly hard time in Auggie's life. In the episodes featuring Operation Proper Exit, Auggie mentions coming to terms with things in his own time, so I wanted to look at that a bit more carefully. There's no way he would have gotten to where we see him now if he hadn't gone through the very dark days first.

The rates of suicide among reterning soldiers and veterans is astounding and continues to rise. I've worked on a psych ward at a VA hospital, and the folks are working their asses off, but the demand for services both inpatient and outpatient is overwhelming, and we're failing our heroes.

As mentioned by one of my own fanfiction heroes, momsfifthchild, an ovewhelming majority of people who do attempt and ultimately commit suicide have given either covert or overt indication within days of doing so - and at least 30% have sought help with a healthcare professional in the weeks leading up to the event. It's important to listen to those who are asking us for help and to help them get the proper care.

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Chapter 2

About half an hour later, Dr. Ben Rosen pulled up to the gate and drove up to the house. Gwen met him in the front hall and directed him to the back porch where Auggie was waiting. After the initial burst of energy that had resulted in the shower and changing of his clothes, Auggie had run out of steam again. She stood back and watched the other man approach Auggie who sat, oblivious to the others around him, leaning back, head bowed, emitting no obvious psychomotor movement, just still and too terribly quiet. Gwen couldn't help but zone in on the juxtaposition of the psychiatrist's clean, crisp, young energy and the total lack thereof in her son. In another life, she could imagine this guy showing up to meet Auggie for a game of tennis or golf, not to attempt to pull him back from the edge of despair.

Ben touched Auggie's shoulder. He startled, then stood. Auggie reached for the other man and clung to him like a life preserver as Ben enveloped him in a long embrace. Gwen fought back tears again as she asked if they wanted a drink before retreating back into the house when they both declined. They sat back on the glider.

"What's going on?" Ben asked, starting things off. He knew Auggie had been slipping backwards in the past few weeks – becoming more quiet and closed, and Ben had been at a loss to break through. The fact that Auggie had called today was a bit of a surprise in that he'd actually taken that step in the direction of asking someone for help. Ben felt just slightly encouraged in that fact.

Auggie opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before he actually formed sounds. "I don't even know how to put it into words."

Ben tried to stick with the specifics of here and now. "What happened today with your mom? She looks pretty shaken."

"I explained to her all the ways I couldn't kill myself unless someone helped me," Auggie finally whispered.

"Auggie." Ben inhaled sharply and then exhaled a long sigh. "God. I'm glad that you told her how you were feeling." He glanced down at his hands, now trembling as they rested on his thighs. "I knew things were worse, but I'm sorry that I didn't realize how much. I'm so relieved that you called before you did anything else."

"Yeah, but what do I do?"

This was going to be a process, but he needed to give Auggie at least a glimmer of hope today, or he might truly lose him. "Do you feel up to a walk?"

"Yeah. Okay. The cane is inside." The reality of his life now was that he needed something or someone to help him get around. That alone nauseated him.

"Ok. You want to lead the way or do you want a guide?"

Auggie reached for Ben's arm. "I don't think I should be in charge of anything right now."

They retrieved Auggie's cane and started down the driveway and continued out onto the sidewalk. Ben let them get about a football field length from the house before he started talking.

"I know things are starting to wind down with your rehab. Is that adding extra pressure?" He'd been here before with other patients over the past two years he'd been working at the VA.

Auggie nodded. "Yeah, I mean, that hit me about a month ago, but I can't even get close to thinking about what comes next. There's so much right now that I have to remember, plan, memorize, 'keep in mind,' and my brain is absolute mush. I can't focus on anything. I don't know what to do. I start trying to figure out the smallest thing – like not even anything consequential like getting a new pair of shoes, and it's overwhelming. The act of just thinking about how I'd even go about that brings me to my knees.

"And then I start to think about how if I can't get it together for little stuff like that, then what am I going to do after I'm done here, and it's just too much. I can't. It's easier to retreat and just not look forward, and then that's a pretty short trip to 'maybe it's better if I'm just not here.' Then no one has to look out for me, and I'm not so... whatever this existence is."

Ben directed him back to a low rock wall where they both sat, looking out toward the lake. "Okay. That's a starting point. We can go from there," he conceded. "Are you physically in pain?" It wasn't unusual for his soldiers to underestimate or ignore treatable and manageable factors that contributed to depression. Ben had learned by now that addressing physical issues that guys hadn't bothered to tell anyone else about greatly improved his success in turning around these situations.

Auggie nodded. "All the time." He rubbed his forehead. "I know all about the post-concussion syndrome and what to expect, but I've had a continuous headache for almost five months. I can't sleep. It hurts to chew, so I really don't feel like eating. And then I have no energy."

Ben nodded. "Okay. I think we can do some things to help those things. It's important to remember that the post-concussion syndrome can also account for some of the difficulty with focus, too. But that's going to get better with time."

"Is it? Because it doesn't feel any better." Fear and pain strained Auggie's voice into a hoarse whisper.

"It can take a long time for symptoms to totally resolve. And you may not be able to see where you've come from, but I can definitely tell a difference in your symptoms over the past few months. Maybe part of that is your ability to cope with them, but you're much more functional than when you got here."

Auggie nodded. Ben made some valid points that slowly reeled him back. "Okay. But what do I do right now? Today?"

"Well, first of all, I want to change your medication to something that also has some pain-relieving capabilities. Have you heard of Effexor or Celexa?" Auggie shook his head. "They inhibit the re-uptake of norepinephrine as well as serotonin and that does tend to help relieve several different types of pain. Let's try Celexa. I like that one better. And as soon as we can, we need to get you back into your routines. As your post-concussion symptoms allow, you need to be back into the gym and easing into workouts. You don't want to overdo it at first, but in the long run, exercise is going to help you feel more like yourself."

Auggie nodded again. He knew Ben was right about that. He never felt more alive or vigorous than when he was working out his frustrations with sweat and physical exertion. He hadn't even really considered how that would improve his overall mood.

"I know my parents want me to be here so they feel like they're doing something to help, but I don't know if it's helping." Auggie hesitated, trying not to sound ungrateful for his family's willingness to take him back in and do whatever they could to help his recovery. "I'm so thankful for them, but I've never been a homebody. My brother Max and I were both out of here as soon as we graduated. I haven't even spent more than a week here in something like 10 years."

"I know this is going to be a little further out there for you to wrap your head around, but you also have to consider the perspective of your family. They had to, at least for a minute, be prepared for you not to come home. So when they got the chance of you, they're going to take whatever they can get. Does that make sense? You're here struggling with a lot of things, not the least of which is what to do with your life from here, but do you think your Mom would mind at all if you just stayed here indefinitely and did nothing?"

"Yeah, no, you're right." Auggie knew he needed to hear this and was so thankful that Ben had arrived as a voice of reason. He was hitting Auggie's estimation of the situation squarely. "They just wanted me back home and safe," Auggie confirmed.

"Their expectations are going to lag behind yours. They aren't inside the rehab process or you head. They don't know what you're thinking and what you're hoping is possible, no matter how much you let them in – which incidentally is harder to do without visual cues; we've talked about that. They don't want you to be unnecessarily disappointed, so if that means sticking with the status quo, then they're going to be okay with that. They don't mean to hold you back, but they can."

Auggie nodded again. After a moment he sighed, almost not wanting to say what he felt like he had to, what he thought might be the darkest cloud looming over his entire recovery. "I don't think I can get well here, but I don't have anywhere else to go."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: It's actually coming quickly right now, so I'm posting a bit faster than I normally would. The outline's not completely done, so I'm not sure exactly how we'll get to my conclusion. But have faith, reader, we'll get there. With Auggie mostly intact.

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Chapter 3

"What about going back to DC?" Ben asked.

Auggie shrugged and stood. He paced a few steps in one direction then the other. "I had a career, a life, and I took the active duty assignment to get away from all that when things went sideways." He stopped for a second and kicked at the gravel under his feet. "This was my back-up plan." He looked up in what he thought had to be Ben's direction. "How fucked up is that?"

"That does complicate things." Ben agreed as he stood and gently started them moving again. "Have you talked to anyone at your previous place of employment?"

Auggie shook his head. "It's not a real, um, ADA-compliant place, though." He thought about a diplomatic way of explaining the Agency. "They don't make a lot of modifications to protocols as a rule. No matter what the federal law says."

Ben worked with a lot of military guys who had also held "other" government jobs, so he had an idea of Auggie's predicament, if not specifics. "I still think you should talk to them – or at least someone you were close to there. I'm guessing they spent a lot of time and money training you, and they aren't going to want to lose that if they can help it."

"Maybe." He wasn't convinced at all. There was no way Ben could understand.

"Listen, Auggie. You don't have to tell me which agency you work for, but let me just tell you what I know. The easiest to reintegrate into are probably State and DOD – lots of opportunities there. Homeland's doing better than they used to. We've had more luck in counterterrorism with the FBI than law enforcement, but they're often eager to hold onto their people." None of these seemed right to Ben. He continued. "If you've made it to the NSA initially, which isn't an option for just anyone, they are actually quite good about finding a place for you to return. They're sometimes even willing to work to place agents who can't for physical reasons return to their agencies. I mean, not everyone has the skills for that option, but I'm assuming that with your background it's a possibility." Ben stopped again. He'd watched Auggie's face closely and realized that he needed to keep going. "The CIA is the most difficult, of course."

"Of course," Auggie echoed softly.

"Getting you back in really depends on them, and you're right. They don't have to do anything they don't want to."

"That's what I figured." He started to reveal more, but the psychiatrist stopped him by placing a hand on his arm.

"You don't have to say anymore, Auggie." Ben had been here before, too, and he didn't want Auggie to feel pressured into a read-in that he might later regret.

He shrugged. "This is a confidential conversation, right?"

"Yes, it is, but you still don't have to tell me anything you don't want to."

"I want to. If that's okay?"

"Sure, Auggie, whatever you want to tell me."

He slowed his gait and then stopped as his cane hit a curb cut. The intersection was quiet, and Ben guided him across the street and into the lakeside park. When they found a more secluded spot to talk, Auggie started again.

"I'm a covert field operative. I have been for a few years." He sighed but somehow Ben sensed that the heaviness on his face and his shoulders lifted ever so slightly with this admission. "I've never told anyone that, not even my brother Brendan." Auggie's face darkened again, though, as the next thought crossed him. "But even if I could go back, it wouldn't be the same."

Ben smiled sadly. "Nothing's going to be, though, Auggie. Not here, not if you go back to DC and certainly not at work. I can't get you back in the field, but maybe we can get you through the door at Langley."

Auggie shook his head again. "Not like this. And not on meds." He kept shaking. "It would be dangerous and just not possible."

"So we cross that bridge in a few months when you're in a different place and maybe don't need them."

Auggie's breaths suddenly quickened, arriving in fast, shallow bursts. He felt his heart rate accelerating without any real explanation. "I've read the recommendations. Six months for the first episode of major depression and possibly lifelong after that?" Pressure constricted his chest as his fingers and toes went numb. "I can't do that Ben. There's no way." He realized he had to be shouting to hear himself over the rushing roar in his ears.

Ben gently touched Auggie's arm and placed his hand on the back of a nearby park bench. "Here. Sit here."

Auggie's eyes darted from side to side, pupils widely dilated even in the bright sunlight. "What? Ben?" Auggie clawed at the other man's sleeve. "I can't breathe."

"It's okay. You're okay. Try to slow down your breathing. In through your nose and out your mouth."

Auggie leaned forward and Ben rubbed his back to try to help regulate his respiratory pattern. After about five minutes, Ben felt Auggie's body fall back into a more normal rhythm. They sat there without speaking for another few minutes before Auggie broke the silence.

"I can't do this, Ben."

"You don't have to do anything today, Auggie. Nothing today, okay?"

"Can we go back?" His trembling hand groped for the cane leaning beside him.

Ben took all of this in and felt he had to at least suggest something more. "Do you want come back to Hines with me for a couple of days?"

"You think I'm crazy." It wasn't a question.

"No, I really don't, but I want to give you options for more help than I can give you right here and right now."

Auggie shook his head, his thoughts clearing ever so slightly. "That would go in my VA record, and I'll lose my clearance. I can't do that." He flexed and extended his fingers as feeling was returning. "I'll do whatever you need to keep me from being in the hospital. I understand that I need help, but I can't do that."

To Ben, this was an even bigger victory than the initial call. They _could_ adequately treat him as an outpatient, and Auggie's staunch refusal of hospitalization meant he still harbored plans for his future.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: This chapter contains a little more profanity than I normally would place in a T-rated story, but I'm going to leave the rating for now.

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Chapter 4

When they arrived at the house, Troy and Brendan, numbers two and three of Auggie's four "mean-ass older brothers" were waiting for him on the front porch under Gwen's watchful eye. Auggie accepted the new prescription Ben handed him as they made plans for a call later in the evening and a meeting for coffee the next morning as part of their agreement to keep in touch every 12 hours for the next few days. They embraced again. Ben waved to Gwen and the others, got into his car, and drove away. Auggie carefully made his way back to the house and up the steps to join them.

Brendan directed Auggie to the nearest chair and a waiting glass of lemonade. He reached over and handed the prescription to his mom.

"Ben says I should start this today."

"Okay," she answered, taking it into her hand. "I'll take it now."

In her absence, Brendan tried a little small talk, but it fell flat immediately. Troy quickly suggested that they head inside. Auggie appreciatively obliged. He folded the cane and Brendan guided him down to the rec room where he collapsed into a heap on the overstuffed sofa. Troy took a seat to his right and Brendan chose the chair across from them, an ottoman separating the three of them.

"Mom called you guys?" Auggie started with the obvious.

Brendan nodded. "She said you were gonna be staying here for the last few weeks of your program and that we should stop by."

"Together, without your families, on a Saturday afternoon? Right."

It was a quick and poorly-prepared story, but Brendan tried to stick to it. "Well, she's right. You haven't been around forever. We should spend time together."

Troy interjected. "We could do a weekend trip, Vegas, Whistler, whatever you think."

"I don't know, Troy. Not yet."

"Yeah, Man, on your time table. Whatever you're comfortable with." He sensed the unease in his brother and tried a subject change. "Do you want anything – a drink, something to eat? You look a little like you've been lost in the wilderness for a few weeks. The beard, and you can't weigh more than what 140, 150?"

"How about a movie or some music?" Brendan offered, trying to steer this conversation in yet another direction away from Auggie's bedraggled appearance.

"Or I could read something." Troy offered. "You have like a thousand books in your room. What's that one you like so much about the computers, Snow something? Or maybe something from that series you told me about, _A Song of Ice and Fire_? I've actually been reading some of the stuff you recommended, but I'm only on the second one of those. Really good!"

Auggie grinned at this admission. Playboy Troy reading George R.R. Martin? He'd never have guessed that one. "Could one of you punch me or push me or hit me or something. It's just not right all of you being so nice and accommodating. It's making things even weirder."

"We're trying to be a little more grown up these days. We both have kids and everything, you know," Troy grinned.

"What about Rhett? Did Mom call him, too?" Auggie asked cautiously.

Brendan fielded that one. "Yeah, but he said he didn't want to be underfoot."

Auggie nodded. He hadn't really expected his oldest brother to be part of the cavalry. "Have either of you guys talked to Max?"

Troy stood and switched places with Brendan who joined Auggie on the couch.

"No. He only calls Rhett. Sometimes Dad." Brendan explained. "Rhett keeps his distance from us sometimes. He says he wants to be a lifeline for Max when he's ready."

Auggie's fourth brother had been for the most part estranged from the family for a number of years. He'd been completely estranged from Auggie.

"Oh. I see."

He could hear Troy pacing even on the carpeted floor. "Listen, Aug, I've been going over this in my head, and maybe this isn't the right time to address this, but I just can't put it together how you ended up back over there. I thought things were good at work – that you were contracting at the Pentagon. When they told Mom and Dad you'd been injured, your commanding officer was very specific about how you'd volunteered to return to active duty when you didn't have to. What's that all about?"

"Not now, Troy." Brendan begged.

"No, it's okay," Auggie interjected almost defiantly. His eyes more alert than his brothers had seen today. "I just needed to get out of DC, needed a change of pace."

"Was it the job?"

"No. Work was fine. It was other stuff."

"Like what? What would be bad enough to make you volunteer to go back to war?"

"Troy!" Brendan snapped.

"Just stuff, Troy." Auggie was standing now.

"Was it a girl?" Troy pushed. Auggie didn't answer but stopped still. Troy exploded. "Are you FUCKING kidding me, Auggie? All this was over a girl? You literally ruined your life over a break up?"

Auggie raised up straighter and moved toward his brother's voice.

"Troy. Stop." Brendan tried again, jumping between his brothers.

"No, Bren. I just don't fucking get it," he yelled, angry tears escaping his eyes. "Rhett barely talks to us and Max flat out won't because we're supposedly on 'Team Auggie.' Meanwhile, the man the myth the legend himself over there doesn't bother to pick up his goddamned phone and talk to one of us – who routinely call him at least once a week to talk to his answering machine – when he breaks up with his girlfriend and feels depressed, but instead runs off to war! I don't understand this!"

Brendan pushed him back toward the chair while attempting to keep an advancing Auggie at bay. "Troy. Calm down."

"I don't want to calm down Brendan. I'm confused and sad, but mostly I'm mad." He twisted to address Auggie better. "I'm so fucking mad at you, Auggie," he yelled as Jim Anderson's arms grabbed him from behind and pulled him back into the chair.

"Come on, Troy. Upstairs."

"Dad," Troy gasped, his eyes brimmed to overflowing with sorrow. "What that fuck did he do that for?"

"I know, Son. Come with me now." Troy wiped his eyes and nose with the back of his hand and let his father direct him to the basement stairs. Jim looked back just in time to see Brendan catch Auggie as his knees buckled and helped him sink back onto the couch.

Gwen walked through the back door just as Jim and a still sobbing Troy arrived in the kitchen.

"What's going one here?" She almost shrieked. "What happened?"

"Maybe you should have just called Brendan today," Jim mused.

* * *

"Are you okay? I'm really sorry about that. He's taking this harder than the rest of us."

"Ya think?" Auggie scoffed.

"Come on, Auggie. He said all that because he's worried about you, and he's hurting because you're hurting. He doesn't deal with that kind of stuff well, but he loves you."

"And you don't? I mean you're able to talk to me without an obscene tirade."

"Of course I do, and I'm worried about you, but not for the same reasons." Brendan explained.

"What do you mean?"

Brendan shrugged. "I know you're going to be fine. You're going to get your feet under you, figure out what you want to do and where you want to do it and probably break some rules in the process."

Auggie wanted to smile at Brendan's confidence in him, but did that mean Troy thought he would fail? "And he doesn't?"

"The things he's worried about are different. You know how much perfection matters to him – his looks, his car, his women, his status. This would have ruined his life, and he can't wrap his head around why you'd be okay without those things that are important to him. But that's no necessarily what's important to you, and he doesn't get that."

"So what are you worried about?" Auggie wondered now.

"Mostly, seeing you like this."

Auggie could relate to that. "I know, it's disturbing. The cane makes it worse, real or something. Dad just goes completely silent when he sees it."

Brendan took a seat beside him. "No, that's not what I'm talking about. Like this now, so far down. And what really worries me is that the longer you're down here, the longer it's going to take you to get where you need to be and where you're going.

"Aug, Mom's afraid you're about to break. You know she's usually laid back about this stuff. Troy had a deformed broken arm for like three days before she took him to the doctor that one time. But she is seriously worried. Are you really thinking about the things you told her?"

He leaned back against the cushions of the couch. "Sort of. I think deep down not really, but the thought of living like this is so daunting." His voice broke a little at the end.

Brendan wrapped his arm around his brother's shoulder. "I know it has to be, Auggie, and I can't imagine what you're going through, but we're here. And maybe we're not here in the right ways, but you gotta tell us what you need. We'll do whatever it is, but we can't read your mind."

Tears streamed down Auggie's face as he nodded without saying anything. Brendan's arms pulled his little brother's head in close to his chest and held him as he finally started to let some of it go.

TBC

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Okay. Three in one day, now it's gonna slow down a bit. Thanks for your reads and reviews!


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thank you all so much for your continued interest in this. Your reviews really push me. I'm so glad to also see positive response to original characters. You always want them to be multi-dimensional and believable, so recognition of that attempt means so much. I think this one may end up being rather long, seeing as we've had 5 chapters covering one day :-)

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Chapter 5

When Brendan and Auggie mounted the stairs, their parents and Troy were anxiously and impatiently waiting for them on the back porch. Brendan asked Auggie if he wanted to join them. He affirmed that he very much did.

"Auggie." Troy was immediately at his side. "Man, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean what I said." He thought about that for a second. "Well, I did. I'm mad because you got hurt, but I'm not mad at you."

"I know, Troy." Auggie readily accepted his brother's apology. "I kind of wish Brendan had let me take a swing at you, though." He grinned slightly.

"I deserved it," agreed Troy.

"I appreciate you not taking it easy on me, though. Especially today. I just needed to be the younger brother for a while."

Troy pulled him into a bear hug. "Anytime, August."

They joined their parents at the table where Gwen had set out sandwiches and chips. She placed turkey on wheat in front of Auggie and kissed the top of his head.

"Maybe just try a little, okay?" She'd been clearing his barely touched food for almost three weeks.

He caught her hand and nodded. "I'm actually kind of hungry."

Gwen raised her eyebrows at her husband and older sons. Troy wiped his brow in an exaggerated gesture of relief, hoping these past five minutes would get him out of the dog house with his mother.

Troy accepted a roast beef sandwich from his mother and dared to ask another question that could easily land him right back where he started. "Don't anyone bite my head off, but why is Auggie staying here?"

Auggie and Brendan laughed at their brother's boldness after so recently incurring their mother's wrath. "The last nine weeks of the program, I'm supposed to be living in my own place. Like a trial of reality," Auggie answered eventually.

"So why don't you have your own place?" Troy pressed.

Auggie shrugged. "I had a room here."

Troy pushed a bit further. "Right, but are you doing the shopping and the cooking and cleaning and getting around the city and all that?"

"No."

"Well, don't you think you should do those things? I mean, isn't that what they expect that you're doing?"

Auggie nodded. "Yeah, but I didn't really have a plan, so getting an apartment seemed like an unnecessary hassle."

Troy huffed a pffft sound. "There's a guy in my office who just bought a house up here with his new wife and is trying to sublet his one bedroom in West Town, Wicker Park I think, until his daughter comes to start at the University after the first of the year. That timeframe could work. At least in part."

Brendan nudged Auggie. "It could, Auggie. You want to check it out?"

He really did. "Um, yeah. Can you set that up, Troy?"

Troy pulled out his phone. "I'll call him right now." He made arrangements for them to check out the apartment on Sunday afternoon. When that was settled, he and Brendan both decided they needed to be getting home. Auggie walked with them to the front of the house and hugged them both tightly, thanking them for coming to his rescue, no matter how unorthodox their methods had been.

Jim and Gwen stood back and watched their sons. As Auggie turned back from the driveway to approach the house, Gwen moved forward to help, but Jim stopped her with a gentle tug on her hand and a subtle flick of his head. She realized that he was right. She had to let Auggie do this on his own. And he could, he did. Perfectly.

It was still early, but Auggie felt that he could actually sleep. He asked his mom for the new medicine. She handed him the one of the tablets she'd picked up earlier with the two others he'd been prescribed. He swallowed them with a sip of water and took the glass with him as he climbed the steps headed to his room.

After he'd washed up and brushed his teeth, he climbed back into the bed his mother had thankfully re-made with clean sheets and reached for his headphones on the bedside table. He felt hopeful for rest, hopeful that he would make it through the depths of a depression he could never have imagined before. He'd felt better and more optimistic this afternoon with Ben and his brothers than he had in weeks, maybe since Tikrit. Maybe even before. He hesitated to make the jump that this afternoon translated into him going back to his life and eventually the Agency. Ben had given it to him straight. Even if he could be functional, useful, or helpful, whether or not they took him back was completely out of his hands.

Before he started the playlist on his phone, he made the requisite call to Ben and confirmed their plans for the next morning. He slipped the headphones on and started a mix of his regular easy-listening and singers/songwriters mingled with his former squad mate Billy's jazz primer. He drifted off easily, and actually felt sufficiently rested when a clap of thunder shook the room and pulled him unceremoniously from slumber. As he attempted to untangle himself from the sweaty sheets and headphones cord, he heard something stir across the room.

"Who's there?" he whispered, startled and a little afraid of his vulnerability.

"It's me. I didn't mean to scare you. Sorry." Brendan was suddenly beside him on the bed.

"What are you doing here? What time is it?" Auggie asked, disoriented and confused as to why his brother was in his room in the middle of the night.

"It's a little after 2."

"What's going on?" Thunder clapped again. Auggie jumped involuntarily.

Brendan's hand on his shoulder settled him. "I started thinking after I left that even if you did fall asleep, you may not sleep all the way through the night, and I didn't want you to be alone when you woke up. Not tonight," explained Brendan. "And then when the storms started, I just came on up."

"Bren," Auggie started. "You didn't have to."

"I know, but I just kept thinking about you as a little kid climbing in with me or Troy when there was thunder, and it's silly, but I thought you might want someone here right now." Brendan stood. "I realize how stupid and overbearing that sounds now. I'll go sleep downstairs on the couch."

The sky rumbled and ripped with thunder. Lightening flashed. Auggie jumped up beside him. "Um, I'll come down, too."

They moved together toward the door where Auggie waited for Brendan to turn on a hall light and offer a guide, but he didn't. Instead he turned back to Auggie. "I don't want to wake Mom. You've been living here for, what, three weeks? Lead the way."

Auggie started to protest before he realized Brendan was right. He offered his arm to his brother and they set off together through the darkness.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Whew! Reviews, reviews! Very overwhelmed with your generosity of words. I started to put two parts together to make this one a bit longer, but the natural break felt better at the end here. Not a ton of excitement or angst, but life starts to move on.

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Chapter 6

Gwen woke with sunrise on Sunday. Jim snored beside her as she grabbed her robe and left to check on Auggie. Most times when she looked in, he was tossing and turning in fitful dreams or feigning sleep to try to keep her from worrying. She prayed that he'd passed a restful night for a change. The sunlight shining through his opened doorway stopped her halfway down the hall. Cautiously she peered in and found the empty bed. She thought about waking Jim but instead headed downstairs where she hoped Auggie would be.

She breezed through the main floor, including the kitchen and the back porch without any luck. Finally, she tried the basement. She was surprised, pleasantly so, to find Auggie and Brendan asleep on the couches in the rec room. She tiptoed back up the stairs and climbed back into bed with Jim for a little more sleep herself. As she slid under the covers, he reached for her.

"Where'd you go?"

"Where do you think?" She scooted closer to Jim. "He's downstairs with Brendan. Did you know Brendan was here?"

"Mmmhmm," Jim answered into her hair. "I heard him come in around midnight and the two of them in the hall when Auggie woke up around 2."

Gwen turned to face her husband of more than 40 years. "And I slept through all that? And you let me?"

"They were fine. I was listening."

"Do you ever sleep?"

"Not as soundly as you, I guess," he smiled. "They'll be out a bit longer, and it's Sunday."

"Yeah, and?"

"And you don't have to be anywhere but here with me."

She tried to relax in her husband's arms, but needed to re-hash the same conversation they'd been having since the word of Auggie's injuries came more than four months ago. "Will he be okay, Jim?" She was the pragmatic one who could effectively divorce emotion from the equation. Always. Except when it came to her boys. Especially Auggie. She'd relied on Jim for all these years to keep her grounded when it came to the balance of protecting her sons and letting them experience the ups and downs of life.

"If you hadn't intervened yesterday, I don't know. I think he might have eventually tried to end it." He admitted, validating her den mother instinct. "But if he keeps moving forward, yeah. He'll be fine. Better than."

Gwen sat up. "You thought our son was suicidal and you just let him sit up here in the room with those thoughts and ideas?"

Jim pushed up on the pillows behind him. "I'm not saying he was for long, but I think yesterday and maybe the past two or three days were a drastic change from even when he moved back in." He reached forward and kissed Gwen's bare shoulder. "I think your timing was just right. If he hadn't been in that place, he wouldn't have opened up to you and accepted that he needed help like he did."

Jim understood people in a way that Gwen couldn't. Strangers routinely came up to him in stores and told them their unsolicited life stories while she could count on both hands the number of times she'd exchanged more than check out pleasantries with anyone at a Supermarket. She admired his compassion for others and how deeply he felt emotion. Yet, when it came to the boys, somehow he was able to maintain an objectivity and outward calmness she could only dream about. It had made for what they both felt had been a successful parenting experience, producing five successful and upstanding sons.

Around eight, Gwen awoke again. She grabbed her robe again and headed for the stairs. This time she heard rustling and laughter in the kitchen. She descended to find Brendan and Auggie rummaging through the cupboards.

"What are you two doing?" she asked as she approached.

"We're looking for stuff to make coffee and Brendan isn't having any more luck than I am," Auggie said, his head popping up from behind the island. This collapsed them both into a fit of laughter.

She started to admonish their silliness until it hit her squarely in the face that Auggie's laugh had been absent from their lives for the past four months, and she had a suspicion, even longer from his.

"You're making a mess, you know?" She said as she knelt beside Auggie and stopped his hands from rifling through the low cabinets. She looked up toward Brendan. "Both of you."

"Okay. We can take a hint," Brendan laughed. "And I'd better hit the road." He turned and clapped a hand on Auggie's shoulder as he stood. "See you later, yeah?"

"Where are you too off to?" Gwen turned from one son to the other.

"Boys have a soccer match. I'll get them settled there with Dana and then these guys will meet me there to head into the city to look at that place."

"Are you sure Dana is okay with this? And the boys?" protested Auggie. "You spent almost all of Saturday over here with me and you're going to miss most of their game today."

"Dana practically sent me out in the rain last night, and the boys will understand. Or at least, when they're old enough to understand, I don't want them to ask me why I left you on your own to go to one of their thousands of inconsequential games." Brendan collected his keys and shoes from the mudroom. "Besides, that way you can catch up with Dana a little while we wait for Troy."

"Why will we be waiting on Troy?" Auggie mused.

"Because we're always waiting on Troy," Brendan laughed. "Call or text if you need directions, okay?" he added, on his way out the door.

"What time is it, Mom?" Auggie realized he, too, had plans and a schedule today. As well as a beard he intended on getting rid of as soon as was humanly possible.

"About 8:15. What time are you meeting Dr. Rosen?"

"He said he'd pick me up here at 9:30."

"You'd better get ready, then. Do you want me to actually make some coffee?"

Auggie smiled. "Sure. That would be good."

She directed him to the cabinet over the range. "The coffee and filters are in here." She placed his hand on each container. "Water's in the faucet and the coffee maker is beside the fridge. It's ancient. You just have to flip the switch on the front for it to start brewing. For next time."

"Got it." He nodded seriously then smiled. "Thanks." He started toward the steps then turned back to his mom. "Do you think Dad can help me out with this beard situation?"

Gwen laughed. "He's awake, and he has an electric razor that you might find useful."

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Thanks again for reads and reviews. Brendan's wife Dana makes her first appearance here. As established in Duck and Cover (if you haven't read that), Dana and Auggie were best friends growing up and throughout high school. She began dating Brendan, who is almost 4 years older than them, when she was a freshman in high school.

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Chapter 7

"What a difference a day makes." Ben Rosen noted as Auggie descended the porch steps.

"Yeah," Auggie blushed. "Thanks," he managed as he climbed into the passenger seat of Ben's car.

"I'd ask you how you're feeling, but it's all over you." Ben came around to his own seat. "There has to be a story behind this."

Auggie laughed a little. "Yeah. Basically my brother Troy gave me a swift kick in the ass, and my brother Brendan sat there while I cried on his shoulder afterward."

"Yeah?" Ben wasn't quite sure what to make of that.

"That's pretty much what happened. I mean, he didn't actually kick me, but he treated me like he would have before."

"First time for that?"

"From my family? Definitely." Auggie paused for a second. "And we're going to check out an apartment downtown this afternoon, too."

"Yeah?" Ben had vocally opposed Auggie's move back home. He would have preferred that Auggie stay in the VA Domiciliary over the current situation, but it had ultimately been the other man's decision to make. "How did that come about?"

"Troy knows a guy who has a place that might work."

"And you're okay with that."

"I mean, yeah. I feel like I've just gone backward since I've gotten home. It was so different than I thought it would be, but I haven't lived there for like 12 or 13 years. I'm not sure what I was expecting." Auggie shrugged. "I'm just starting to feel like maybe there _are_ options."

Ben placed his hand on Auggie's arm. "That's all you have to realize. You don't have to figure it all out today or next week or next month. I just don't want you to feel like you have nowhere to go. Tell somebody what's going on." Auggie nodded. "I know it seems hopeless at times, but you have to reach out. And if you can't do it for yourself, do it for me or for your Mom or your brothers or all the people who want you here."

Auggie had heard that Ben had seen combat time in Afghanistan at the very beginning of the war. It boosted the doctor's credibility infinitely with the guys at Hines. If anyone could understand even a portion of what was going on in their seemingly wrecked lives, this guy was probably going to be the closest. He might have the answers they needed, that Auggie needed. "How did you transition back?"

Ben thought about it for a moment before answering. "Work helped. I could take a lot of what I was feeling and experiencing and find a meaningful place for it working with patients." He continued. "I didn't always want to be a psychiatrist, but after going through some of the struggles myself and seeing so many other people coming back with the same reality as me, I didn't see how I could do anything else. Anywhere else."

"Have you lost guys? Back here I mean."

"Yeah," Ben whispered. "Too many. You can see what's happening, but sometimes nothing gets through. You pray and hope that somehow they'll find a way through it, but not everyone does."

"But there are successes, right?" Now Auggie felt he needed to bolster Ben's mood.

Ben laughed. "You turning shrink on me, Anderson?"

"I felt bad for dampening the mood like that."

"Let's leave it at this," Ben decided. "It's a real shitty job a lot more of the time than I feel like yI'm helping folks. But someone's gotta do it, and I figured it might as well be me."

"You're fucking awesome at it, if that helps at all." Auggie put his opinion there.

"You know, it does a little."

They pulled into the parking lot next to the soccer fields and made their way over to the sideline with Brendan and Dana. Auggie introduced Ben to his brother and sister-in-law before the psychiatrist headed out.

Dana, barely containing her excitement at seeing her life-long best friend for the first time in weeks, nearly knocked him over with her embrace.

"You look a little less like what the dog chewed and the cat dragged in than Brendan described last evening."

Auggie laughed and kissed her cheek. "Always nice to see you, too, Dana."

She linked arms with him and they set off across the park away from the whistles and bustle of the soccer field.

"Don't you need to watch the kids?"

"Oh, Brendan can do that. Half the other mothers haven't even figured out the offsides rule yet. And they all think their kids are the next Pelé." She scoffed. "Thankfully hockey will be starting soon and we can be done with this crowd."

"Where your kids actually are the next Wayne Gretzky and Mario Lemieux."

"Well, if the skate fits…" she ventured. They both laughed before Dana quieted and gripped his arm tighter. "I'm sorry I wasn't there when you needed me, Auggie."

"Dana, come on." He sighed. "You were there more often than anyone else, almost once a week."

She slowed her steps and then stopped. "Yeah, I was. But I didn't realize how bad it was."

Auggie shook his head sharply. "No way. You're not blaming yourself for anything here."

"I thought you'd want some time at home with your mom and dad, settle into things."

"Yeah, and I was doing great until I thought, 'If only Dana would come see me. Guess I'd better think of ways to kill myself instead.'" He gave her hip a little shove with his. "That's exactly how it went down."

"It's a little too soon for me to laugh about this, Auggie."

"Okay. I can understand that, but it's laugh or cry right now, and I've gotta try a different approach." They started moving again. "I know there's a long way to go still, but honestly talking with Brendan and Troy last night and today, it's the first time I really started thinking about anything other than getting through rehab and whether or not it was even worth it to try." He shook his head. "It was like some kind of fog starting to lift and this crushing weight always pushing me down got just a little bit lighter."

She hugged his arm close and went up on tiptoes to kiss his smooth cheek. "I'm glad. Brendan's glad."

"Thanks for sending him last night." It was something she'd think to do.

"It was 50/50." She revealed. "He was really upset when he got home. He wanted to come right back, but I convinced him to give you a chance to get to sleep first."

"Well, thanks. Either way, it was actually nice to have him there, even after he scared the bajeezus of me when I first woke up."

Dana laughed again. "At least it wasn't your mom!"

Auggie smiled. "She stops by often enough."

Dana nodded. "Listen, I know you're going to look at this apartment today, and I hope it works out well, but if it doesn't seem right or if you don't want to do it, you don't have to. We can help you find another place, or you can stay with us."

"Dana," he tried to protest.

"I'm serious, Auggie. We're hardly ever home between sports and clubs and meetings. There'd be plenty of toys and sports equipment underfoot all the time, and I promise not to cook or clean for you." She paused. "I am a mother, but I'm not yours."

Auggie smiled. "It's a good offer, but I think Troy's actually right on this one. I have to be on my own now, with the safety net of you guys around, to see how things go."

"Well, if you crash and burn, as though that's ever happened, the offer stands."

"Thanks."

They circled back to the fields to find that Troy had arrived on time and he'd brought Rhett with him.

Although Brendan and Dana had seen Auggie both at Walter Reed and frequently since he'd gotten back to Hines, and Troy had tagged along two or three times, Rhett hadn't seen his brother since Christmas the year before.

The two hugged rather stiffly, Rhett seeming unsure and apprehensive around his younger brother and Auggie not exactly sure how to put him at ease. Troy, either totally or not at all oblivious to the situation, took it upon himself to completely overlook this and get on with the day. He handed Auggie a folder with some information about the apartment for him and Brendan to take a look at as they headed toward the destination.

"I couldn't figure out how to get it printed in Braille on that short of a notice. The guy at Kinko's said they could send it out, but it would take a couple of days. I'll know that from now on," he explained.

Brendan gave Auggie the tiniest shove to indicate what would have otherwise been either raised eyebrows or an eye roll.

"Yeah, Troy," Auggie responded, as it seemed like his brother was waiting for him to say something. "We'll look over it."

"I also thought we could grab lunch in the neighborhood, you know, check it out a little, before we meet Henry at the place."

"Is Henry his first or last name," Brendan asked, knowing that with Troy's crew, either was possible. Auggie made a poor attempt to stifle a chuckle.

"Mom said you two have been like this all morning," Troy huffed. "Don't act like idiots in front of this guy. He's a Senior VP."

Brendan and Auggie lost it again. "I'm sorry, Troy," Auggie gasped for breath. "That wasn't even funny." He tried really hard to even out his voice. "We'll try harder."

"Yeah, well, just act like you have some sense," Troy pleaded as he put the car in gear and they started out on their way.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: This is as far as I've written so far. This one is longer and sort of ends this part of the story. The next part will focus on Auggie really getting his groove back. I'd love your ideas of ways he can do that in addition to what I've already cooked up...

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Chapter 8

When the boys pulled up to their parents' house a few hours later, the wives and children had already arrived for a family dinner.

Brendan clued Auggie in to all the cars in the driveway. "Did you know everyone would be here?"

He shook his head, suddenly silent. "No." They got out of the car and started toward the house. "There will be people all over and stuff on the floor. They'll move the chairs." Auggie was sweating, even though he hadn't been just a moment before.

Brendan touched the back of his hand to offer a guide. "It'll be okay. I'll stay close, and just let us know if it's too much."

Auggie nodded, still not sure.

They made their way to the back yard where Jim was grilling. Rhett's wife Ruth and Troy's wife Leah had settled in the shade with Troy and Leah's six week old daughter while their two-year-old, Maeve played beside them.

Dana reclined in the sun beside the pool where her 9-year-old twins Emmett and Eamon were swimming. Gwen moved back and forth between the two groups of her daughters-in-law when not retrieving items from the kitchen for Jim.

Brendan directed him to a chair beside Dana before he grabbed them both a drink. Troy and Rhett both went immediately to their wives. Maeve climbed into her father's arms as he reached over to kiss Leah and ruffle the baby's hair. Rhett took a seat beside Ruth.

Troy carried Maeve toward the others and chose the seat to Auggie's left. Maeve crawled across her father and toward her unsuspecting uncle.

"Hey, Aug" Troy alerted him. "The baby is coming your way."

"Huh, okay," Auggie said, reaching his arms out in what he hoped was Maeve's direction. Tiny hands grabbed his as he pulled his niece into his lap. She stuck her little fingers in his mouth and pulled at his hair before she squirmed and bucked in his lap.

"I'll take her," Dana offered as Maeve wriggled in Auggie's arms.

"Okay," he said, as he handed her over to Dana.

She stood from her chair and walked the little girl back to where her mother and toys were waiting.

"She's a lot bigger than the last time you were here, huh?" Troy asked.

"Yeah," Auggie confirmed. "More wiggly, too." He heard Leah coming toward Troy's seat.

"Auggie, it's great that you're here," she stated, reaching forward to touch his hand. "How'd things go this afternoon," she asked both of them.

Troy waited for Auggie to answer, as he'd been pretty quiet from the time they'd pulled out of the lot at the soccer field.

"I liked it," he answered honestly. "The neighborhood had a good feel, too."

"It's pretty much halfway between here and the hospital, it's it?" she asked.

"I think so." He hadn't really figured out how to map the distances yet. "I'll have to figure out a few things, but I think it could work."

"Well, good." She patted his hand again. "Listen, Ruth wants to say hi. Is it okay if she and Rhett come over in a minute? She didn't want to bombard you with people if you weren't up to a whole family at once," she explained.

"No, sure, it's fine."

"Okay. I'm going to get them."

A moment later, he heard Ruth's heeled sandals to his right where Dana had just been. He stood and turned and reached for her.

"Hey, Ruth."

She hugged him quickly. "Hi, Auggie." She took a seat and he followed. "It's good to see you."

"It's good to be here." He rubbed his palms on the fabric of his jeans. "Is Rhett with you?"

"Right now? No." She answered. "He's inside helping Gwen."

"Oh, okay."

"He's nervous, and he feels silly about it," she stated, explaining her husband's absence.

"It's okay." He'd figured most of that out by now.

"He's also dreading the Max conversation."

Auggie's brow furrowed. "So he sent you to run interference?"

"No. He doesn't have any idea that I'm talking to you about this."

"Well, I think he'll probably figure it out here in a minute."

"He's not good with his feelings, Auggie," She pleaded with him for understanding. "You know this. He's way more sensitive than he knows how to deal with. That's why he's so standoffish sometimes."

Auggie found himself completely fed up with the whole situation. "He's almost 40, Ruth. Is he planning on dealing with that at any time?"

"I didn't come over her to upset you." She retreated gently, knowing she'd gone too far.

Auggie stood, increasingly infuriated. "God, no. Let's not upset Auggie. Hard to tell what he might do." He started away from her to his left and tripped over what had previously been Troy's chair. Ruth reached to help him up. "Just leave it," he growled. "Brendan!" He yelled, attempting to summon the brother who'd promised to stay be by his side during this whole thing.

Troy reached him first. "He's in the bathroom, Aug," he explained as he helped Auggie right himself.

"Can you just get me out of here, please?"

Troy guided him around through the chairs around the pool and through the yard back to the house. "You want to go back inside?"

Auggie nodded. "Yeah, just out of the way."

They entered the kitchen through the back door, and Troy placed Auggie's hand on a chair in the breakfast nook, keeping him on the opposite side from where his mother and Rhett were preparing for dinner. Ruth trailed a few paces behind, but made a beeline for her husband and mother-in-law. About the same time, Brendan came through the front room into the kitchen and dining area.

Seeing Troy consoling a shaking Auggie and Rhett calming a tearful Ruth, he knew somehow he'd dropped the ball. "What happened?"

"Nothing," Auggie protested. "But you left me out there. Not cool."

"I'm sorry, but I left Troy as a lookout."

"And I had the baby for like a second," Troy defended himself. "How was I supposed to know that Rufus was going to get you all riled up?" He spat, using the boys' behind the back nickname for Ruth.

By this time Rhett was ready to insert himself into the conversation. "Hilarious, Troy."

"Oh, Rhett's found his voice," Auggie, nearly forgotten in this exchange, piped up.

"That's not fair, Auggie," Rhett asserted.

"And life is ALWAYS fair. So sure, play that card, Rhett."

"You can be mad at me, Auggie, but leave my wife out of this." He addressed Brendan and Troy. "Same goes for you two."

"Okay. Fine. Then tell me why you're avoiding me, Rhett. What don't you want me to say or ask? Why didn't you call or stop by or pretend like you wanted to know how I was? And for that matter, why didn't Max? You know if it were the other way around, I'd have been there for you, or him!"

"Would you have?" Rhett attempted to throw some of Auggie's questions back on his own past failings and notable absences.

"I would have tried, at least."

"I did check with Mom, with these guys" interjected Rhett.

"And Max?"

"He's been deployed for amost five months, Auggie. I've only talked to him two times since he's been gone, and I didn't want to tell him in an email."

"And no one even knew he was gone?" It seemed unlikely that they had kept this from everyone. "Does he know anything about me?"

Rhett hung his head. "He thought it was going to be a quick one, and I promised not to say anything until he said I could. And if he was coming back soon, I thought it would be better to tell him in person."

"So that's a no to both questions?"

"No."

"How much else doesn't he know?"

"What do you mean?"

"I haven't talked to him in TWO YEARS, Rhett. And you're the gatekeeper of this relationship or lack thereof. Does he even know that I want to talk? Who are you trying to protect?" Auggie was barely holding himself in the chair. He was trying hard not to yell, but only felt anger bubbling to the surface.

"You! I'm trying to protect you. He does NOT want to talk to you or see you. And in his mind, everyone else has chosen you over him, so he's not willing to be here when you are."

Auggie threw his hands into the air in a gesture of surrender. "I don't understand what I did to him that is so terrible."

"He's not really clear about it, and maybe he doesn't even know. He's unhappy with himself and he doesn't know how to deal with you – always his comparison in his eyes – being so self-confident and assured."

Auggie sighed an exasperated and defeated sigh. "Well, now would be the time for him to take a good freaking look. Believe it or not, things were NOT going well in my life, and yes, some of it involved a girl. Two of them, actually." He assumed Troy's tirade had also already made it through the family grapevine. "So when I wanted to get out of town and away from my shit storm of a life, I didn't immediately think about coming out here or taking a vacation. Instead, I made, what was in retrospect, a stupid and swift decision." He stood and walked carefully toward the steps without his cane in his hand before turning back. "Think of it this way, you can tell him I got what he obviously thinks I deserved."

They gave him a few minutes alone to decompress before Brendan stood to go up, but Rhett stopped him.

"Can I go, Bren?" he asked, tentatively. "I promise not to get back into it with him, but there's more to say."

Brendan sat down, almost relieved. "Yeah, yeah. Go."

Rhett climbed the stairs and took a deep breath before heading down the hall to Auggie's room. He knocked on the open door and waited for Auggie to ask him in.

"I'm just not ready for everyone tonight, Brendan."

"It's Rhett."

Auggie looked up, surprise on his face. Then he smiled. "I did not expect that."

"Yeah, I know." Rhett entered the room. "I'm sorry about before."

Auggie rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Don't be sorry, Rhett. Help me understand. Please."

Rhett took a seat in the corner armchair. "His thinking is warped, Auggie. I can't totally understand it, but at least try to see things his way. You're his little brother and you've outshone him in everything the two of you have ever done. His name's not on that State Champion wall at New Trier High that you always go check out when you come home, and yours is up there twice. You went to MIT…"

"He went to The Citadel," Auggie interjected.

"Which is not the Naval Academy."

"Okay," Auggie conceded.

"All he ever wanted was a military career. You graduated with a great education and all kinds of prospects for jobs and success, and then you show up here that fall saying you'd joined the Army. And the timing doesn't work out for him, Auggie. He knows somehow someone or something moved you through OCS and then Special Forces training." Auggie opened his mouth to protest. "You don't have to tell me who or how or any of that. I understand you have secrets you have to keep, but it was just another blow to him."

"No one got me through Special Forces training but me." Auggie couldn't really address the rest of it, but he wanted this fact known.

"I'm not saying that they did."

"And I had no idea he'd rung out of SEAL training. I'd NEVER had called him if I'd known. I literally got off the bus and called him." This was the moment Auggie had pinpointed as the final break in their relationship.

"It's more than that, Auggie."

"But what can I do?"

"Keep reaching out, but you have to be prepared for him to not respond. He's not ready."

"Even now?" Surely his decrease in status had to afford him something.

"I don't know." Rhett couldn't predict Max's reaction to anything anymore.

"Do you know when he'll be back?"

"At least three more months."

Auggie sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "I'll apologize to Ruth. She got caught in a classic case of shoot the messenger."

"She'll be okay."

"Still, I didn't need to yell."

"She'll appreciate you saying so." Rhett stood. "Are you ready to go back, or do you need more time?"

"No, I'm ready, but can you grab my cane for me when we get downstairs? I'm not sure where I left it on the way in, and I don't want to step on Maeve."

Rhett chuckled. "Sure."

When they rejoined the family, Auggie immediately found Ruth to apologize. They hugged again, and everyone found their seats for dinner. After a low-key meal, everyone stood to help clear. Auggie felt quite useless until Troy placed a hand on his shoulder and thrust the new baby into his arms.

"Her name's Helena. She's really cute and pretty chill. You can run your fingers over her face or whatever, but just wash your hands first, okay?"

He twisted around and raised off his chair, almost dropping the baby in the process, his mouth gaping open until he heard the laughter his brother was unsuccessfully trying to hold in.

Auggie snorted his own laugh and settled himself back on the chair, carefully cradling the baby's head on the way down.

"Screw you, Troy," he managed between the guffaws of laughter. His brother had made a blind joke at his expense and no one had died. They may be able to figure this out after all.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: There's been a little more inspiration. Yay! A lot less dialogue in this as I advance the story a bit, but I think an important step in the process. Would love to hear your reviews!

* * *

Chapter 9

The following weekend the Anderson clan moved Auggie into his new apartment. Ben Rosen stopped by with one of Auggie's rehab instructors, who unobtrusively helped oversee the whole process and proved quite helpful with troubleshooting and advice. Auggie's research told him that using public transportation to get to the VA would take over an hour both ways given the traffic patterns. However, he could catch a shuttle about four blocks from his place to cover the 12 miles back to Hines when he needed to be there. He ran through the route several times with Brendan, Ben, and even his mom before he was sure he'd be ready for Monday morning.

As the others left on Sunday night, he walked through his rooms, exploring, touching, his fingers reading labels on shelves, bottles, cans, drawers. As he retraced his steps over and over, memorizing the layout, he found his mind wandering. He lost count and slammed his shin into a coffee table three steps before he expected it. Tears sprung to his eyes. He groped for the edge of the couch and fell back onto it, rubbing his throbbing leg on the way down.

His phone told him it was only 8 pm. He wasn't hungry; they'd already eaten. He wasn't tired, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to sleep anyway. Dana had helped him label the rest of his clothes – the ones that had come from DC in boxes, so he'd already picked out something to wear. Ben had helped him set up his stereo and label the vinyl he'd purchased since his return to Chicago. He selected a recording of Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie performing "A Night in Tunisia." He admired their skill, although, he had to admit, he was really starting to prefer Charles Mingus to the horn players. When that had finished, he picked Mingus's "Nostalgia In Times Square," from the John Cassavetes film _Shadows_. Auggie wasn't religious at all. His parents really hadn't pushed the issue growing up, but listening to the hum of the bass was unquestionably the most spiritually stirring feeling he'd ever experienced. Billy would be proud, he thought. As the music ended, he finally headed to bed. He needed to at least try to sleep.

The next day went fine. Well, even. So did the one after that and after that and on and on. It was early October when Auggie received word he would be completing the rehab process, two weeks earlier than he had expected. There was a little reception in a garden where his family filled most of the chairs. A certificate and a binder of resources were shoved in his hands, and he was on his own. Of course he was still meeting with Ben three times a week, and they'd begun to talk about decreasing his meds. They usually opted for midmorning meetings. It gave Auggie plenty of time to get up and moving and to the hospital, and Ben would often give him a ride back to a closer train stop to his place to help cut down on the commute.

But for the most part, his days were his own. He spent the first few days of freedom around the apartment, further adjusting it to fit his needs and making it feel more like his own place. When he didn't have therapy, he met Troy most days for lunch – sometimes near Troy's office, sometimes in Auggie's neighborhood. After about three weeks in his apartment, his daily routine had solidified itself. Mornings at the gym about a two block walk from the apartment then back to clean up and head to therapy with Ben or lunch with Troy. Then back to the apartment where he'd started to build his arsenal of adaptive computer equipment. Thankfully, his MIT contacts had come in very handy. Both classmates and professors readily came to his assistance in obtaining or creating the interfaces he needed to be able to touch and hear what he used to see. Most days he cooked a little something for his own dinner, but he occasionally stopped by the Pub downstairs where he'd become somewhat of a regular. He'd drink his pint of Guinness and make his way back upstairs to fiddle with the computers while Charlie's bass hummed in the background.

Not much changed. He liked that. He could sense his life moving back into his grasp. He was almost ready to reach for it. Almost. Still, something was missing. He couldn't put his finger on it until he had lunch alone on a Tuesday afternoon in late October at his favorite café. The waitress at the door directed him verbally to an empty table as she usually did when he was alone. The first day he'd tried it without one of the others, he stood in the middle of the room, feeling very much like an outcast in the school lunch room must, until she rescued him. Since then, they'd worked out a system. Auggie found himself learning lessons in flexibility every day of his new life.

By now he didn't need a menu and ordered a chicken salad on a croissant with a side salad when she stopped by his table a few minutes later. She refilled his water glass and was gone. He didn't know much about her, except that her name was Rosie and she was a smoker. He assumed her age to be around 50, but she could be younger giving that the smoking likely had aged and deepened the rasp in her voice.

As he waited for her to return, lighter, more hesitant footsteps approached him. He raised his head toward them, her.

"Hi," a pleasant voice in front of him offered. "I don't usually do this, but I've noticed you're here a lot. And you aren't usually alone. And I usually am, but how would you know that," she added. "But anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to have lunch with me."

Auggie blinked a couple of times. "Um. Yeah." He motioned to the chair across from him. "Sure. Have a seat." He reached out his hand. "I'm Auggie."

"Elaina," she offered as they shook.

"If you know that I'm usually here, then you must be here even more than I am, which would be a lot," he mused.

Elaina laughed an easy, honest chuckle. "True. Although maybe not more often but just for longer."

This interested him, so he asked. "How do you end up spending your days in a café?"

"Good question," she conceded. "I'm working on a novel, and I come down here to break up my day and hopefully find inspiration to get back to writing."

"Does it work?"

"So far, not really, but I'm gonna give it a few more days." She took a sip of her water. "What about you?"

"Kind of the same thing. It's an okay getaway, and Rosie keeps the coffee and pie flowing when I'm feeling sorry for myself or just frustrated."

"How long have you been in the neighborhood?"

"About six weeks, I guess." He motioned to the folded cane on the table. "This is all pretty new, so I'm doing my best not to break things or myself." He said with a self-depricating smirk and a shrug.

"Well, I've been hanging around this place for about two months, and believe me, you haven't been even close to the clumsiest or messiest person I've seen."

Auggie laughed. "That is definitely good to know."

Rosie arrived back at the table with Auggie's order. She sat his plate in front of him with a smile toward Elaina, another of her section regulars. "It's about time you two met. Both of you here almost every day, sitting about three tables apart, never speaking."

Auggie lifted his hands slightly in a gesture of surrender. "How would I have known unless one of you told me?"

"I thought maybe that handsome blonde brother of yours would say something. Pretty girl sitting right across the room from you, stealing glances." She trailed off.

Elaina was glad he couldn't see the deep flush of her face. "Rosie!"

"Two good looking kids like you need to spend time together and not be sitting in my café all day." She turned to Elaina. "You want the French onion soup?"

"Sure," she surrendered. "And a Diet Coke, I guess."

Auggie heard her walk away and he turned to Elaina with a smile. "So tell me about this novel."

"Sure," she agreed, "as long as you tell me what you do on that computer all day." Sometimes he stayed long after Troy left, working at his table, putting off heading back to the apartment, drinking Rosie's far superior coffee.

Auggie grinned at Elaina as the thought formed in his head. "I could tell you," he confirmed with a wink, "but then I'd have to kill you."

They both laughed as Auggie reached for his glass. His hand brushed hers. They both stopped for a moment as she pulled it slowly back.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to."

"Really? Because I can't see where yours is."

Elaina laughed again. "Oh, you are dangerous."

"I used to be, I think," Auggie decided after a moment.

"I don't think it has anything to do with being able to see."

His face darkened. "I hope it doesn't." He couldn't believe how much he was letting her in. He pulled back now, afraid to do or say any more, lest he show more vulnerability than he already had.

Elaina sensed the subtle shift as Rosie dropped off her lunch and realized she needed to give him an out for now. "I'm going to have to get back to work soon, but I'd love to see you sometime." She kicked herself mentally as she gasped. What a stupid way to put that.

Instead of folding completely, he placed his hand on the table near where hers had been and gave her a little half smile. "I'd like that, too."

She'd already thought of the perfect activity. "There's an outdoor concert in the park on Friday night, and I was thinking about checking it out. Any interest?"

Auggie smiled again. He was doing a lot of that today. "Yeah. Definitely."

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: You guys are so nice with reviews and reads. It made this one come really fast. And the next one is about halfway done. So glad these can be published in serial! Will our dynamic duo take down Henry Wilcox tonight for good this time? Probably not, then what would they do, but I digress...Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 10

"The girl from the coffee shop?" Troy coughed as he choked on his swig of beer out of amazement at what Auggie had just told him.

"Yeah."

"She's really cute." He managed between wheezes.

"Uh, thanks for letting me in on that fact."

Troy took a drink of water to finally clear his throat. "I guess I just didn't think about it."

"Yeah, well, I need a little help scoping out the scenery these days. So help me."

"Yeah. No. Sorry." He tried the beer again. "So she came right up to your table, huh?"

Auggie nodded as he took a long pull on his own bottle. He and Troy were waiting for Brendan to join them at the bar for the Bears game on Sunday night.

"I mean, there are always girls looking at you," Troy added, realizing his brother may have wanted to know that, too.

"They ask me if I need help a lot; I'm putting that together now."

"You mean this has been going on for a while?"

Auggie nodded. "Pretty much every time I'm out."

"And you thought what?"

Auggie shrugged. "That they were feeling sorry for me? I don't know."

"You just now figured out that the cane is a total chick magnet?"

"You would say that," Auggie said, rolling his eyes at his brother.

"Uh, it obviously is." He remembered to ask what he really wanted to know. "How did it go?"

Auggie smiled satisfactorily. "I always performed certain tasks in the dark quite well, which gives me a distinct advantage these days."

"Yeah?" Troy ginned, slapping his brother on the shoulder. "Nicely done, August." He signaled a passing waitress. "Sweetheart, two shots of Patrón here!"

Auggie couldn't stop smiling. He and Elaina had spent a really enjoyable evening together, as well as the next morning. She'd kissed him softly on the way out the door and mentioned that she was leaving for Los Angeles the next week but would call him when she got back in town. She wasn't expecting a diamond ring and a picket fence, but what she'd given him in the way of building his confidence was immeasurable. A brand new dimension of this brand new life was opening in front of him. He was reaching forward with both hands to grab what was coming next, what was possible.

Distractedly he looked up as someone plunked the tequila beside his left hand. "Where's Brendan?"

"He had to stop at the drug store."

"Why?"

"I asked him to pick you up some condoms," Troy announced with a snort of laughter. "Can't have you come home from war and _then_ get VD."

Auggie took a playful swing toward Troy which actually grazed his older brother's shoulder despite his attempt to duck out of the way

"You sure you can't see?" he inquired as he rubbed his arm.

"Yeah. Your reflexes suck. And you're drunk."

"Yeah, but you got laid!" Troy quickly forgot his wound in the light of this fact.

"A little louder, Troy," Auggie laughed. "I don't think they heard you at Soldier Field."

* * *

Elaina did call, and they did "hang out" a couple more times. Mostly they ended up in Auggie's bed. In the first week of November, she told him that she had finished her manuscript. It was off to New York and she was headed to Los Angeles for good. Or for next. She didn't seem to stay in one place for very long. Their goodbye was short and sweet, and he felt compelled to ask if she needed help moving. She laughed and patted his chest as she planted one final peck on his cheek.

It struck him that he didn't feel any of the sadness or loss that he had when Natasha left or when Helen… He didn't want to think about Helen. But somehow, it was these fleeting thoughts of her that spurred him on in his work. He'd amassed quite a cache of equipment for creating the tools of his previous trades. He'd started with some easy hacking – local databases, accessing traffic cameras and had moved up to attempting the VA servers by the end of his first week of serious work. He easily obtained access. He moved next to the systems he'd installed at the Pentagon; their firewalls fell effortlessly. He successfully gained access to two separate FBI servers before he turned his labors toward the CIA.

They proved a bit more difficult, but he found himself accessing some basic information before he hit snags he couldn't immediately circumnavigate. About three hours after he first began his day's work, he bought himself fifteen minutes of what had to be a level 7 or 8 clearance before he was shut out. Emboldened by his successes, he plowed through the increasing security measures added to the server over the next three days before he was sure he was back on his game.

Less than a week later, he became aware of what he would have previously called a "sixth sense" – the feeling that someone was watching him. He altered his daily routines as much as he could without appearing conspicuous and within the confines of his mobility. As he couldn't visually assess his surroundings, he relied heavily on the others to guide him. It was when he was shopping with Brendan for Christmas gifts at Macy's, he realized who and what he was dealing with.

"Auggie?" Brendan asked, as his brother had stopped in his tracks. "What is it?"

"I just smelled something that might be important." He hadn't let the family in on any of this, obviously.

"Where?" They were in the jewelry department with cosmetics just to their left.

Auggie retraced his previous steps. "Right back here." He stopped in front of the Chanel counter. "It's here."

A pretty, polished girl in a black tunic immediately arrived in front of them. "How may I help you, gentlemen?"

"I need to smell the perfume. One at a time."

"Certainly," she started. "This is our featured fragrance for the holidays, Coco Mademoiselle."

Auggie interrupted her with his hand lightly on her wrist. "I'm not interested in commentary. I just need to smell them, and you tell me what they're called, okay?"

Her eyes widened as she glanced quickly at Brendan who shrugged and shook his head. "Certainly, Sir." They made it through about five choices before she offered him a final one. "Our signature fragrance. The No. 5." She handed him the little card.

"That's it."

"What is?" Brendan asked, increasingly perplexed by his brother's increasingly erratic behavior, their mother's Fiestaware platter completely forgotten.

"Just a memory I couldn't place," Auggie covered. He hated playing the PTSD card, but he couldn't tell Brendan the truth. Not yet. He turned toward the nearly trembling shop girl. "I'm sorry. I'll take that one. A little bottle." She nodded and processed his order. Moments later he practically dragged Brendan out of the store.

"What is going on, Auggie?"

"I'm sorry, Bren. I just figured out something. I need to get back to my place. I can't really explain, but I have to go." He started walking before he realized he really didn't have an idea how to get out of this huge mall. "Can you help me find an exit so I can grab a cab?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I'll drive you."

"No, no. You have too much shopping to do." Auggie protested. He couldn't have Brendan walking into what he now knew was waiting for him at home. "I'll be fine. Really."

"Okay," Brendan finally conceded. "Call me later, though, okay."

"Sure, sure," Auggie promised distractedly as they approached a cab stand. He hopped in a waiting car, leaving Brendan scratching his head on the sidewalk.

Twenty minutes later, he arrived at his building. With the little package in hand, he climbed the stairs to his apartment. As he entered the third floor hallway, his pulse quickened. He tried to calm the flow of adrenaline throughout his body as he approached his door. He stopped in front of the apartment just short of placing the key in the door, keeping his head down as he spoke.

"Hey, Joan," he held out the bag with his left hand. "This is for you."

The tall blonde woman stepped forward and took his offering. "Let's go in, Auggie. We need to talk."

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: One more after this one, I think. Then, the wheels are already turning for the third part to this Anderson trilogy.

* * *

Chapter 11

He opened the door and waited for her to walk past before he followed her inside. As he bolted the door, he heard her taking a seat on the couch.

"How long have you been here?" he asked.

"How long do you think?" She needed to know what he'd been able to figure out on his own.

"Three days?" He was pretty sure of that, but still, he had lost an important part of his counter-surveillance bag of tricks.

"Good."

"Is that right?"

"I've been here for about a week, but close contact for three days. So yes. You were right." She crossed and uncrossed her legs. "What was the tip off?"

Auggie nodded toward her. "Open the bag."

She pulled out the container of perfume and chuckled her low, throaty laugh. "I'd venture that millions of women wear Chanel No. 5."

"Not any that I've smelled in the past 6 months."

"Inventive," Joan conceded.

Auggie took a seat across the room from her. "What are you doing here?"

She flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Not even you can hack the CIA server with absolutely no repercussions."

Auggie felt the flush on his face. "Curiosity was killing me. I had to know if I could still do it."

"Four times?" was her incredulous reply.

"I had to see if I could beat the added security each time," he explained with an innocent shrug.

"It was basically an invitation for invasion into your life. Someone was going to come, but you knew that, didn't you?" She shook her head as she realized his plan. "You assumed I'd do it and the worst that would happen to you would be taking me to dinner. Which you're going to do, by the way."

Auggie smiled quickly. "Sure." His face changed again. He played with a thread on his shirt for a moment in the silent before he laid it all out for her. "I want to come back, Joan."

"Are you sure?" She really needed to know that he was. She'd come all this way to look him in the eye when he said it. "Because no one would think any less of you if you didn't."

He nodded, realizing that was mostly true, but he new he had to try at least. It was the next step he had to take. "I have to. If you can find a place for me."

"There's always a place for you, Auggie. We'll make one if there isn't. You can take it slow and build up to full speed if you need to."

Auggie shook his head. "It's a sink or swim kind of company, Joan. We both know that."

"I'll authorize the use of life jackets, then."

He smiled again. "You'd do that for me?"

"If you need it, which I doubt that you will, but yes. If we're going to do this, we'll give you the time you need to get back up to speed. Arthur agrees. He said I needed to bring you back, no matter what. He says you're invaluable to the Agency and to him."

He would. Auggie reminisced bitterly of the things he'd done for Arthur Campbell in the name of freedom, a cloud of tumultuous remembrance falling across his face.

"What's that look for?"

"Just thinking about past secrets, but we all know that's useless." He stood. "What are you in the mood for?"

"Pizza, of course."

"Fine. I know a good place, but we'll need a cab."

"So this is settled? You'll stop hacking government servers and we'll begin preparing for your return?"

Auggie nodded. "Deal."

"What's your ideal timeframe?"

"After the first of the year. I have a lease on this place until then, and I need to spend the holidays here to let them get used to the idea of me leaving again." He took a deep breath. "And I need some time to make sure my head's right." He hung his head. "I'm still on meds, but things are a lot better."

She nodded, expecting as much. "Fine. Let me know what you'll need, and we'll make it happen."

* * *

The next week, Auggie prepared to join the rest of the family, minus a still-deployed Max, at his parents' house to celebrate Thanksgiving. He planned on contributing the pumpkin pie that Rosie had sent home with him the day before. She often had a doggie bag waiting for him when left the café these days. He started to tell her he wasn't actually pining away over Elaina's departure, but he decided just to let her mother him a little. They both seemed to need it.

Dana and the other women had congregated at the Anderson house early on Thanksgiving morning, so Brendan and the boys met Auggie at his place. He wasn't quite ready when they arrived, and they settled in front of the TV to watch a little bit of the parade as he dressed. Emmett and Eamon had helped in the move-in process, Eamon being fastidious about organization and labeling in the kitchen while Emmett and his mom had tackled Auggie's closet. Both understood the importance of order in their uncle's living space, but they couldn't help but gravitate toward the gadgets that had nearly swallowed the dining room table.

"Boys!" Brendan cautioned as they inched toward the technology.

"We're just looking, Dad." Emmett promised as he watched Eamon run his fingers across the keyboard's Braille pad. He scowled at his brother and shook his head.

"You can ask him about it when he comes out and maybe he can show you how it works, but leave things alone now."

"Can we check the kitchen cabinet labels instead?" Eamon asked. He had really enjoyed using the labeler.

"Sure. Just don't move anything, okay? Uncle Auggie knows where everything is right now. He will not appreciate you switching things up on him."

"Ok!" Eamon exclaimed as they bounded into the kitchen and jerked open the pantry cabinet.

Auggie appeared, damp toweled hair across his forehead, in a pair of dark jeans and a grey Henley shirt. He sat on the couch to pull on his socks and shoes. "Where are the boys?"

"In the kitchen. I've asked them to update your organizational system."

"Right," Auggie laughed. "Cause it's always fun to think you're opening a can of chicken noodle soup and get creamed corn or pork and beans."

"You have any cool electronic thing you can show them?"

"Sure." Auggie finished with his shoes and grabbed his phone to find the boys in the kitchen.

"Uncle Auggie!" Eamon exclaimed as Auggie turned the corner, slamming into his uncle with a forceful hug.

"Eamon, whoa!" Auggie staggered backwards, realizing his nephew's head was now hitting him mid-chest. "You've grown."

"Course I have," Eamon confirmed.

"What are you doing over there, Emmett?" Auggie asked, a little concerned at the level of quiet concentration his nephew was expending. He hoped Brendan really had been joking.

"I'm double checking your labels. But I'm not moving anything. I'm putting them all back where they were," Emmett explained as he extricated himself from the pantry.

"Bring a couple of things over here, okay?" Auggie tapped the screen of his phone and listened as the female voice directed him to the appropriate app. He scanned the label of the box Emmett has placed on the countertop beside him.

"Kraft macaroni and cheese," squeaked the tinny voice from within the phone. He held the scanning beam over the sides and they listened as she rattled off the nutritional information as well as preparation instructions.

"Cool!" Eamon exclaimed as he thrust a can in Auggie's hand. "Can she read anything?"

"Pretty much. It's a new app, so it isn't always perfect, but I guess it will just get better and better over time." That's how all this stuff worked, right?

"That's so cool," Emmett agreed, much quieter than his brother. Auggie noticed that he'd been a little more distant than Eamon over the past few months. Not that he had spent a lot of time with the boys growing up, but it was clear that Emmett was the more careful, calculating and pensive of the two, never eager to rush into the unknown. Auggie had been dealing with his own stuff since he'd been home, so he really hadn't had time to address it, but he felt a quiet satisfaction as Emmett moved a little closer to his side.

"Yeah," Auggie agreed. "It is pretty cool." He stood. "Let's put this stuff back, get my pie and head on up to Grandma's before she calls to see where we are, okay?"

The boys helped clean up the nonperishables and placed the labeler in the drawer while Auggie retrieved the pie from the counter. Brendan turned off the TV and handed Auggie his coat on the way out the door.

"You left this on the couch."

"Ah, thanks." Auggie clapped his brother's arm as a tactile addition to his grateful nod.

They made their way down to the street to Brendan's waiting car. They piled in and soon arrived at their destination. Brendan took the pie from Auggie's hands as the boys pulled him into the yard and onto a pile of leaves. Cane cast aside, they wrestled in the yard before Dana came out to call them all inside. Eamon ran off first, but Emmett hung behind with Auggie, handing him his cane and sticking right by his free arm.

"What's up Emmett?" Auggie asked, sensing Emmett wanted a little alone time.

"I wanted to know how to help you get places like my dad does."

"You want to learn to be a guide?"

"Yeah. Do you think I'm big enough to do it?"

"Well, the most important thing isn't really how big you are but that you pay attention to what's going on around you and can keep me from running into stuff." He could barely contain the smile fighting to erupt across his face. "Do you think you could do that?"

"Yeah. I can do that!" He pledged.

"Okay. Well, let's try now." Auggie straightened himself and situated the cane in his hand. He showed Emmett how to offer his hand and then arm to the person he was guiding. Auggie took Emmett's elbow and they approached the house. Emmett clued him in to the four steps to the porch. They made it into the dining room, and Auggie folded the cane, hoping he wouldn't need it in the house, even with all the people around. Maybe Maeve would be wearing a helmet?

"How'd I do?" Emmett asked, looking up to his uncle for affirmation.

Auggie broke into a smile. "You did great!" He moved his hand from Emmett's elbow to his shoulder and squeezed it affectionately. "Thanks, Emmett."

"You're welcome, Uncle Auggie," Emmett replied as he bounded off into the other room where Eamon had set up a video game.

"What was that all about?" Dana asked, reaching up to kiss Auggie's cheek as he wrapped her into a warm hug.

"Just getting to know one another a little better."

"Yeah?" Dana wiped her hands on her apron. Seeing Auggie and Emmett together excited her. Emmett hung back from the others, observing without engaging too much of the time.

"They're good kids, Dana. You guys have done a great job."

"They've been pretty easy so far, but I fear the worst is yet to come."

"What makes you say that?"

"Growing up with five Anderson boys," she answered with a parting shove. "Troy and Rhett are downstairs with your dad if you want to join them."

"After you say hello to your mother," Gwen exclaimed as she kissed him on the opposite cheek.

"Hey, Mom." He reached for a hug.

"I'm thankful that you're here." She smoothed his hair.

"I'm thankful to be anywhere, frankly." He admitted.

"Are you?"

"Yeah. I really am."

Gwen held him tightly. "That's the best thing I've heard all year, my love."

"Thank you for pushing." He laughed. "Never thought you'd hear that one, huh?"

She kissed his cheek again as she released him. "Happy Thanksgiving, Auggie."

"Happy Thanksgiving, Mom."

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Okay, this one just sort of took off. So there will be another chapter. At least. I'm thinking an epilogue, too. And I just finally got to watch this week's episode and am finding myself at a loss for words regarding this season. More reason to write!

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Chapter 12

"You'll stay with us tonight, won't you?" Dana laced her arm through his as they descended the bleachers at the twins' hockey game. It was Friday night two weeks after Thanksgiving. "The boys are going to a birthday sleepover."

Auggie hadn't really planned to go to the game when Dana showed up at the apartment to collect him about two hours earlier. Since his visit with Joan, he'd thrown himself headlong into work, and they'd barely seen or heard from him in the past three weeks. He definitely hadn't planned a sleepover of his own, yet he knew Dan would insist. She'd used her "I'm not worried about you" worried voice. He needed to try to throw her off the trail.

"I don't have clothes or anything." A poor play, he realized.

"Brendan's only a little bit bigger than you, and I'm sure we have extras of everything. Do you have a phone charger?" Twenty-first century problems.

Auggie grinned at her understanding of how his world worked – both then and now. "I do."

"Great! Then it's settled."

He couldn't and wouldn't attempt to fight her. "You sure you and Brendan don't want some time to yourselves?" He threw this up as a last, pitiful resort.

"I doubt you'll be coming in our bedroom with a tummy ache in the middle of the night."

"You'd be surprised where I can end up without even trying," he said, attempting to stifle a laugh.

She smacked his chest playfully. "We'll tie a jingle bell around your ankle or something, so I can hear you coming."

"That'd probably work."

She gave him the front seat and climbed in over the boys' mess in the back. "You'd likely need a tetanus shot if you sat back here without knowing where all their crap is, Aug," she explained as she implored him to take her place beside Brendan.

They arrived at the house and headed straight for the kitchen. Brendan grabbed beer for him and Auggie and opened a bottle of red wine for Dana. Dana started the conversation as their drinks arrived at the table and Brendan took his seat.

"What have you been up to? We've barely heard a peep from you in almost a month."

"I've been busy," he tried. "It's actually been nice to have a full agenda of things to do every day."

Brendan cleared his throat and he and Dana exchanged silent glances. "Doing what, Auggie? What are you doing in your apartment all day with the computers?"

He'd run through this conversation with them in his head about a million times, at least half of those times since coming home. He took a long drink of his beer and started peeling the label from the bottle. "I've thought about this for a long time, and I think it's time for you to know a little bit more about me." He could only imagine the looks on their faces. "I can tell you some things, but I may not be able to answer a lot of the questions you may have." He sighed again. "And you can't tell anyone about this conversation." He turned to Brendan. "Not even Mom and Dad." He stopped and waited for them to take this in.

Brendan looked over at Dana. She nodded her head. "Okay, Auggie," agreed Brendan. "We can live with that."

"Dana?" Auggie asked. She needed to say it, too.

"Agreed."

He wasn't exactly sure where to start, so maybe with the beginning? "When I was in my final year at MIT, I was recruited by the CIA to become an analyst. During my training period, it was decided that I would be better used in Clandestine Services." He waited for them to digest this for a second before he said the actual words. "I'm a spy."

Dana gasped. "But after September 11th," Brendan started.

Auggie nodded. "I joined the Army in 2001 to become an Agency embed. We had no idea what we'd actually be dealing with in Afghanistan, so we wanted our people in the mix." He took another drink to slow his racing mind. "A little later, I was asked to train for Special Forces to be able to be sent even more in the middle of the action."

"And this time?" Dana asked.

Auggie nodded again. "I volunteered to go, but it was with a unit I'd been with before. It was ultimately an Agency assignment, though." He balled up the freed label. "I really can't say any more about it."

"So Max was right." Brendan realized.

"About some things," conceded Auggie. "Not everything, though, and I couldn't and still can't explain things that would give him the answers he needs."

"Okay." Brendan stood and began pacing the kitchen floor. "So now?" He stopped after two passes when Auggie didn't speak. "Oh my God. You're going back."

Auggie held his head in his hand, his elbows on the table. Dana reached for his forearm, placing her hand lightly on it. "Auggie?" she asked gently.

He turned toward her and nodded one more time.

"Why?" cried Brendan, as he dropped into the chair beside his brother.

"It will be a desk job, Brendan. They can't send me out in the field like this," Auggie rationalized. "It's what I know, and I'm good at it. Even now."

Dana reached across the table for Brendan's hand. "I think what Brendan means is DC is so far away, and we've loved having you close by." Her eyes pleaded with her husband. "But obviously we're happy that you're going to be able to go back to a career that you clearly love."

"Yeah," Brendan managed. "That."

Auggie chuckled. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Bren."

"I'm glad you can go back, Auggie. I'll miss you, though. I always do." Brendan fought the emotion in his voice.

Auggie's own voice felt suddenly thick as tears welled in his own eyes, "Well, it should be a lot easier for me to visit and vice versa. I'm finally going to be working something like regular hours."

Brendan touched Auggie's arm and they leaned together for another long embrace. When they disengaged, Dana hugged Auggie quickly before walking behind Brendan and draped her arms over his shoulders.

"You're the only ones who know about this," he clarified. "I'm not planning on telling anyone else at this point."

"We understand," Dana assured. "Thank you for trusting us with this information, Auggie."

"Thank you for understanding why I have to go and why I have to keep working." He sighed again. "There's still so much more to be done, and I can still be a big part of it."

Brendan cautiously broached another subject. "What about medical clearance from Dr. Rosen?"

Auggie nodded. "We've been working toward it for some time, and conditions from him and other physicians and psychologists will be part of my re-integration. My superiors are willing to go through this process with me."

"Sounds like you work with some good people," mused Brendan.

"I really do," he nodded. "That's even more of a reason for wanting to get back to work. These people believe in me. And even with the obvious limitations, they are willing to take a chance that I'll still be a productive member of the team."

"Then we're happy for you. Right, Bren?" Dana pushed.

"Yes. We really are." He wiped his face with his hand. "When are you going?"

"After the holidays. Probably the second week of January. That's when my lease is up, and I'll need some time back in my own place to learn the layout and things."

"When will you tell Mom that you're leaving?"

"Not until after Christmas." He'd decided to try to have as stress free of a holiday as was possible for everyone involved. His mom did not need to worry about him moving halfway across the country for four or five weeks. Two would be more than sufficient.

Dana kissed Brendan on his cheek and squeezed Auggie's hand. "It's getting late, guys, and I'm going to grab a shower. I'm probably incubating some sort of fungus from the hockey gear."

They both wished her a good night, and Brendan noted he'd be in soon, but they both knew she'd gone to give them some time to talk.

"Do you think less of me, Brendan?" Auggie asked. He really needed to know a little of what was going on in his brother's head, especially after the comment regarding Max.

"Are you kidding me!" Brendan placed his hand on Auggie's upper arm. "If anything, I'm even more in awe of you than I was previously."

"Brendan."

"No, seriously. You've lived this amazing, exciting and dangerous life for the past 10 years, and I've helped build mini malls. Kind of puts things in perspective."

"Shut up. Seriously. You have Dana and Emmett and Eamon and a beautiful and fulfilling life here." He swallowed hard. "I would have never had those things before, and now, well, who knows."

"I guess when you put it like that, we both have done okay," Brendan decided. "Are you sure about all this, Auggie? It's not just to prove that you can, is it?"

Auggie thought about his answer for a few seconds. "Maybe at first it was, but the more I've worked with the adaptive computer technology and have really started to do some of the type of work I used to do, I realized that I could. It became more of a question of if they would let me, and maybe that's what I need to find out."

"But you said your bosses were on board."

"Do you remember the movie Office Space and how the guy talks about his seven bosses? Well, take that and multiply it by about 50. And my bosses have bosses, too. There's a lot of bureaucratic red tape." He laughed. "That's probably the understatement of the century."

"And you love it?"

"Well, not that part, and field agents usually get a little more leeway, so it will be a big transition all around, but yeah. I do love it."

"Well, then there's nothing else to say," decided Brendan. "We'll come with you to help set up the apartment. I don't think Eamon would forgive us if you labeled a new apartment without him."

"God forbid!" exclaimed Auggie. "But thanks, Brendan. That would be a lot of help."

Brendan stood. "I'll grab you some blankets, a pair of shorts and a toothbrush. Are you sure the couch is okay?"

"It will be fine. Believe me; I've slept in worse places."

"I'm sure you have," Brendan laughed as he went to retrieve some things for Auggie from his bedroom. He arrived back in the living room a few minutes later, a perplexed look on his face. He handed Auggie a small metallic object.

"Dana said you'd know what to do with this."

Augggie rolled it around in his fingers before he burst into laughter. Auggie slipped the elastic with four jingle bells onto his wrist and shook it as Brendan directed him down the hall to the spare bathroom. Dana joined them outside the door, collapsing into fits of her own giggles.

"What's so funny?" Brendan asked, looking from his wife to his brother and back, but they were both laughing so hard and gasping for breath that he never got an answer.

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Sorry for the delay. I've been trying to come to the correct feel for the end of this. There will be one final chapter, but I think it will be an Epilogue, because it doesn't quite fit in with the rest. I hope you enjoy this. It's how I see their family.

Thank you so much to those of you who are reading and to those of you who have reviewed. I especially appreciate all the comments regarding the original characters. They seem real to me, too! And I'm a bit obsessed. I often find myself thinking about them during the day. I hope that will eventually allow me to bridge to original material, because if the characters aren't believable and dimensional, you have nothing.

Although there is more, I wanted to make sure to get that very big "thank you" in now! Enjoy and review!

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Chapter 13

They'd just returned from the community Christmas Eve service, complete with the Anderson twins as shepherds in the live Nativity scene. Auggie had eventually given in to his mother's requests to spend the night at their house. The new tradition with his brothers and their children consisted of presents on Christmas Eve at individual homes before meeting up on Christmas morning at the grandparents' house. Auggie had chosen this time alone with his parents to announce his intention to return to DC.

"So soon?" Gwen asked, halting in the process of placing gifts under the tree.

Auggie handed her another one from the pile beside him, not aware of the impending backlog of gifts. "Yeah, I'm going. I've been making plans for a few weeks now."

"Oh." Gwen took the gift and placed it in Maeve's stack before sinking back onto the couch beside the tree.

Auggie slid over beside her. "I knew you would just worry." He turned to where Jim was assembling a play house for the girls. "You, too, Dad."

"If you feel you're ready, Auggie. We want you to do what you need to do," replied Jim. He'd known his son was close to moving on again, and he thought that was a good thing.

Auggie nodded. "I've talked to Brendan and Dana," he revealed. "They're going to come out with me next week and help set up my place." He turned to his dad again. "I was hoping you'd be able to go back with me a couple of days before to get started on things."

"Sure," Jim nodded. "I can do that."

"Thanks. It would be a big help."

"What about me?" Gwen jumped into the conversation, not about to be left out of any of this.

"I was thinking you could come with Brendan and Dana and the boys on Friday evening. I know you have meetings next week you can't miss." Auggie had heard Gwen mention this earlier to Leah when making plans to watch the girls.

"Will you have room for all of us?" Gwen asked, having never been to Auggie's DC apartment.

He shook his head, remembering his small loft. "Not at my place, but I'll take care of it."

Gwen rubbed his knee. "You don't always have to take care of us, Auggie."

"I know, Mom, but you guys have been looking out for me for a while now, so I need to even up the score a bit." Gwen started to protest, but he interrupted her. "Just let me do this. Okay, Mom?"

Jim shot her a look. She patted his knee again. "Sure, Auggie. That would be nice." He nodded and they went back to assembling the toys and gift piles for the kids.

Working together they finished a little while later. Auggie wrapped his arm around Gwen's shoulders as they headed for the steps. She stopped in front of his door and he reached down to kiss her cheek. "Good night, Mom."

"See you in the morning, Sweetheart." She watched him move about the room with confident steps, before she continued down the hall to wait for Jim in their bed. She heard him stop at Auggie's opened door before he made it to her. "Everything okay?"

"He's fine. I was just saying goodnight." Jim entered the bathroom to prepare for bed.

"He'll be okay?" Her kids often called her out for beating the dead horse.

Jim poked his head back through the doorway. "He'll be okay," he assured.

"I know. Just keep reminding me, okay?"

Auggie found himself walking in the sand. In each direction he looked, the sun shone so brightly around, casting a reflection of equal intensity from the shifting ground of the dunes above and below him. He squinted and shielded his eyes in an attempt to make out a shape far off on the horizon. He trudged toward it, struggling to keep himself upright and his eyes on the goal ahead. Suddenly something slammed into his side, knocking him on his back, and then it jumped on top of him. He flailed in the grit, fighting to catch his breath. The glowing light of the sun faded before him. He thrashed and blinked against the darkness, disoriented and bewildered. Beneath his hands, the ground turned fluid, silky. Not sand. There were giggles and small arms and legs as well. His breathing slowed. He was awake. In his bed. In his parents' house. On Christmas morning. And he was still blind. _No Christmas miracles here_, he thought. Something poked his side.

"Eamon, stop it." The voice seemed to come from far away.

"Is he breathing?" Another voice joined the first, closer. He was coming back. "I'm not sure he's breathing." Then more poking.

"He's blinking and he just moved his arm. He has to be breathing," Emmett admonished his brother's hyperbole.

"I think we should get Dad," Eamon whispered.

Auggie rose up suddenly into a sitting position. Both boys screamed, jumped up off the bed, and ran out of the room. When he finally caught his breath, Auggie laughed. Obviously the others had arrived. He found his way to the shower to attempt to wake himself the rest of the way.

He descended the stairs about 15 minutes later, damp-headed but clean-shaven. His dad met him at the bottom of the steps with a cup of coffee and guided him through the toys and children littering the living room floor to a safe seat not far from the tree. Emmett and Eamon moved cautiously to his side.

"Uncle Auggie?" Emmett asked as he gently touched Auggie's arm. "I'm sorry if we scared you. We came to wake you up, but we shouldn't have done it like that."

Auggie shook his head and reached for Emmett's head, giving it an affectionate pat. "Sometimes my body and my mind can't process surprises very well anymore."

"Because you can't see?" Eamon asked from beside his brother.

Auggie nodded. "That's part of it." How to explain PTSD to suburban nine-year olds? "Part of it is my that my body thinks it's in danger like it was when I got hurt, and I can't always keep myself calm when there are loud noises or something startles me." He scratched his head. "Does that make sense?"

"Sort of," Emmett said, not completely convincingly. "Especially because you can't see surprises coming."

Auggie smiled at his nephews' understanding and at his underestimation of them. "Exactly."

"Dad said we should tell you with our voices when we come into a room with you, too," Eamon added.

He nodded. "That's the most polite thing to do. No sneaking!"

"Okay," both boys agreed.

He took a sip of his coffee before he asked, "Where is everyone else? Are we going to open presents?"

"They're coming," assured Emmett as he dug through his pile.

Before Auggie knew it, the others had descended upon the living room. The mood felt decidedly upbeat, even for Christmas. Leah and Helena plopped down beside him.

"Where've you all been?" He asked her.

"Rhett was just on the phone with Max."

Auggie's throat constricted. "Oh?"

"He's in Guam. They're on their way back to California."

"Is he okay?"

Leah nodded. "It seems like he is. Only Rhett talked to him."

"When will he be back? Will he have any leave time?"

"I'm not sure, Auggie," she revealed with a reassuring pat on his arm. She really didn't have any answers or information for him.

"Yeah, sorry." He realized he was badgering her for no reason.

"Here, hand me your mug and you take Helena. I'm going to need to help Maeve with her gifts." Leah slipped the baby into Auggie's arms while removing his coffee cup from his left hand. He sat back, eyes closed, as he listened to the hubbub around him. The baby snuggled into his shoulder. She smelled of baby powder and innocence. She sighed contentedly against his chest as he gently rubbed her back.

The adults had drawn names, and Rhett took Leah's previous place beside Auggie to bring his gift. "Auggie," he said softly, not sure if his brother was sleeping.

Auggie opened his eyes and turned toward Rhett. "I'm awake."

"I wasn't sure." Rhett rubbed the baby's soft head. "I had your name," he revealed. "I hope it's something you can use." He placed the small box in his brother's free hand.

"Thanks, Rhett." He awkwardly shifted the baby, his hands now both occupied.

"Here, I'll take her," Ruth announced as she arrived on the scene.

"Thanks." Auggie handed over the baby and was able to fully inspect the gift. Instead of smooth paper, it was embossed with tiny velvet snowflakes arranged in rows. A stiff organza and wire ribbon wound around the box. The tag dangling from the bow on top had his name on it, stamped into the card in Braille. Rhett had put so much thought into the wrapping; Auggie could hardly imagine what he would find inside. When he liberated the box from the paper and opened it, he found another container inside. As he lifted the hinged velvet lid, he looked up at Rhett in surprise.

"Are you proposing?"

"Keep opening," Rhett scolded playfully.

Auggie explored the contents with his hands. "Rhett!" He slid his fingers across the crystal casing of the watch face and gently opened it. He carefully allowed his fingertips to tell him the time. His brow wrinkled. "I think it's an hour ahead."

"It's already set for Eastern time, Auggie," Ruth revealed. "And it also has a verbal function if you want to use that." She directed him to the button on the side. "I don't know if it matters what it looks like, but it's stainless steel with a black leather band."

"Yeah, God. Thanks so much. I've been meaning to get one, but I just hadn't gotten around to it yet." He strapped the watch to his wrist. The timepiece fit solidly against him. It was a familiar feel that reminded him of returning home after a week of vacation when you get ready to head back to the office and have to resign yourself to wearing shoes and pants again, much less a watch. His brother had chosen perfectly in every way.

"It just seemed right," Rhett exhaled, relieved that Auggie so obviously loved the gift.

Auggie nodded and placed his hand on his brother's arm. "Yeah. It is."

TBC


	14. Epilogue

Epilogue

After six weeks back in DC, Auggie felt he was hitting his stride. Under the careful watch of Dr. Rosen and his new psychiatrist Dr. Strake, he'd been functioning well without medication for almost a month. His clearance to return to work on a limited basis had been granted. It was only a level 7 to start, so basic algorithms and coding in the basement with some new grads and old hats was all he got to do, but he'd made it back through the door. He was gingerly easing himself into the good graces of any and everyone who had anything to do with tech development. He soon found himself with the world's most sophisticated toys at his disposal to aid in his daily tasks. After the bomb rocked his world, he hadn't even allowed himself to think that any of this would ever be possible. But it was, and Joan was adamant that he return to her division as soon as he was cleared to do so.

He'd even settled into a weekend routine. He grabbed coffee just down the block from his place and usually spent most of the late morning and early afternoon navigating, spending as much time re-learning the city the way he needed to know it now. The concentration this required almost overwhelmed him, though. Because if it hadn't, he most certainly would have eventually noticed the tall, handsome, well-built man that a woman whose advances had been rebuffed at a bar just the night before described to her friends as "Brad Pitt in _Troy _but with a buzz cut" (which really would have been Brad Pitt in _Mr. and Mrs. Smith_, but she was staunchly Team Aniston) shadowing his every move on that particular Saturday.

Lieutenant Max Anderson watched in painful admiration as his younger brother found his way through and across the city streets, only very occasionally stopping to ask for direction or assistance. Rhett had tried to warn him of the shock he would experience the first time he saw Auggie with the white cane in his hand moving cautiously from place to place, but he realized that nothing could have adequately prepared him. He almost forgot the vast divide between them, the mistrust and hurt, the secrets he wouldn't ask Auggie to reveal and the ones he couldn't yet tell. Almost. But he couldn't. It was too much of a risk to admit to himself, much less to a brother he hadn't seen or spoken to in over two years, that he too had opened himself to vulnerability, that one slip could completely end the only life he'd ever wanted or imagined.

As he watched, his silent phone vibrated in the pocket of his grey wool coat. He glanced at the screen, unable to keep the small smile from briefly crossing his face before he quickly banished it and answered. His heart raced as he listened to the voice on the other end of the call say his name.

"Hey, Max. Did you catch up with your brother?"

"Mmmhmm," he nodded. "I'm in his neighborhood now."

"Well, are you going to talk to him?"

"I'm not sure yet." He really wasn't. "I don't think I can. Not yet."

"Is there anything I can do?"

_Be someone else_, Max thought. But that wasn't helpful or constructive. It all was what it was. "No," he decided.

"Are you headed back tonight?"

"My flight leaves at 5:30."

"Want me to meet you at the airport when you get in?"

"Nah, I'll grab a cab."

"Okay. Safe travels." There was a pause, as though the words shouldn't be said over the phone. "I love you, Max."

Max closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I love you, too. I'll be home soon."

He severed the connection and looked up. Auggie had opened up an almost an entire block lead over him. Max debated for a moment if he should follow or just give it up and head back to the airport. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could even fly standby on an earlier flight and make it home at a decent hour. He took two steps in Auggie's direction before he stopped. This was not the time. They needed to talk, really talk, but Max couldn't explain his previous actions. And his brother had returned to his life in DC, which also likely meant his job at what Max had deduced over the years to be either with the FBI in counterterrorism or the CIA. If pressed, he would have to say CIA. That's the only way Max could reconcile what he knew to be true with what he assumed also was. And, in his experience, their people were fiercely loyal. He'd served a few years earlier with an operative in Afghanistan. It appeared that everyone in the Agency had drunk the Kool-Aid, and that seemed to allow them to see the world differently than other people, like the rules didn't apply to them. But what did Max know; maybe they didn't. That's what had gotten them in this place to begin with. He took a deep breath and punched the number Rhett had given him into his texting app. It seemed the best way to reach out to Auggie with minimum contact.

_I came to see you but didn't quite make it all the way there. I know there's a lot we need to discuss, but I can't yet, and I'm guessing you can't either. Rhett told me everything, and I'm so sorry to hear about your injury but glad that you're getting things back together. I wish I could be there for you, but I can't right now. Please know that when it can happen, I want us to try to put things right, if it's not too late. Good luck. Max_

He hit send. By the time he looked up, Auggie was gone. He reversed his course and returned to his hotel where he had stowed his bag behind the counter after he'd checked out. He grabbed a cab at the corner and headed over to Reagan to get out of this city. As he checked in for his flight, his phone vibrated again in his pocket. Auggie had replied. Hot tears stung Max's eyes, distorting his vision slightly as he read his little brother's words.

_I'll wait forever if that's what it takes. Be safe. I miss and love you. Auggie_

He wanted to call and apologize for being such an ass for so long. He wanted to unload his troubled mind on his brother, whom he knew could keep his secrets and try to understand if Max asked him to. But he couldn't. He didn't. This was enough of a lifeline to keep him going, to let him know that eventually, when the time came, if it ever did, Auggie would help him find his way back. The gate agent called his name overhead, and he approached the counter. She handed him a boarding pass to the earlier flight. He smiled as he took it. Maybe things were starting to go his way.

Across town, Auggie sat in his apartment, phone in hand, replaying Max's message over and over. He wished Max had stopped by. He wished they had talked. He wished they could put whatever Max was holding onto behind them. He'd come back to DC for a fresh start, but he appreciated the comedy in that thought. He was in the same apartment, working his way up to doing the same job that he'd done before. It wasn't a fresh start; it was returning to the past. And like Max had been a part of that past, Auggie wanted Max to be a part of the new life he was forging, too. But he'd wait, just like he said he would, until his brother was ready.

Auggie had learned quite a bit about patience over the preceding six months, and he had a suspicion he'd continue this education over the next few years. So, yes. He'd wait. And he'd do whatever he could to reach out and connect to Max, however he could, just like his parents and brothers had for him in his darkest days. Despite the life he'd put together in DC before being deployed this last time, he couldn't do it alone anymore. And maybe he couldn't even before. Max needed to know this, too, although Auggie realized it was a lesson his brother would have to learn on his own. But Auggie vowed to be on guard for when Max did, and he knew the others would be there, too. His life wasn't perfect. There were rough moments every day and some days that threatened to do him in. But he hadn't broken yet, and he had a sneaky suspicion that he wouldn't.

FIN

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A/N: Thanks so much for your continued reading and reviewing, messages and follows along the way. I wanted to give you a little teaser of what I'm planning to work on next - a present-day story (although likely not canon) that will focus on restoring Auggie and Max's relationship as well as advancing Auggie and Annie's romance. I appreciate your willingness to step into my vision of the Anderson world and hope that you'll come on that next journey as well. Now I may take a few days and read and recharge, but I'll be back soon :-)

bp


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